


After the Crucible

by UrdnotFLEXTheJediBard



Series: After the Crucible [1]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Epilogue, Injury Recovery, M/M, POV Garrus Vakarian, POV Joker "Jeff" Moreau, POV Kaidan Alenko, POV Liara T'Soni, POV Shepard (Mass Effect), POV Tali'Zorah, Post-Mass Effect 3, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:46:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 136,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27345289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UrdnotFLEXTheJediBard/pseuds/UrdnotFLEXTheJediBard
Summary: Commander Shepard ended the Reaper War and their threat to galactic civilization. That much is certain. In the months following the end of the war, he and the crew of the Normandy grapple with the fallout of the decisions he made to bring salvation to the galaxy even as they navigate their new realities. Kaidan Alenko, his longtime friend and now devoted partner, has the impossible task of putting Shepard back together as the rest of the galaxy asks what he'll do next.
Relationships: Kaidan Alenko & Male Shepard, Kaidan Alenko/Male Shepard
Series: After the Crucible [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996843
Comments: 97
Kudos: 40





	1. Kaidan 1 - In the Final Steps

**Author's Note:**

> We begin as the events of ME3 end.
> 
> Kaidan promised Shepard he would go with him to the end. He didn't think the end would be London.
> 
>   
> 

"Don't leave me behind," I cry.

"No matter what happens, know that I love you - always."

_He loves me. I knew it._

"I love you, too. Be careful."

_It's true. How could I do anything but? God, why did we wait so long?_

Are these the last words we'll ever say to each other? They have to be. Harbinger is here. And Shepard is going on alone. 

_How can anyone feel this much euphoria and horror at once?_

"Go!" he orders. This one word may as well be the last beat of my heart. I was supposed to go with him - no matter what. And I've failed him in the final steps.

The ramp closes and the _Normandy_ lifts from the hellscape below. My knees buckle and Garrus lowers me to the deck.

"Get Doctor Chakwas!" he yells and doesn't see that she's been waiting with a new staff in the cargo hold. They rush to me and lift me onto a floating gurney. I lose sight of Garrus, but I think he collapses, too. My body is agony. Huge swatches of my skin are blistering inside my scorched armor. The pain is nothing compared to Shepard's last word.

"Kaidan, lie still," Chakwas says over me. I can hardly see her face through my tears. The rest of the hold is a blur, but I feel the frenetic movement of soldiers hardly any less helpless than I am.

"Joker - " I say. My suit's radio is dead and they cut the ship-wide comms for the battle. They're rushing me to the elevator. There's still time to help. "Comlink! Doctor, please!"

"Here." Liara hands me the lapel from her suit. I take it and she holds the earpiece so I can hear. We're crammed in the elevator now, rising up to Crew. 

"Joker, swing us around and hit Harbinger," my voice cracks. It hurts to breathe. "Help him - EDI - we can still - " I cough up blood and rough hands roll me on my side until the fit passes.

" _Our vector is wrong, I'm trying to correct_ ," Joker's voice says. It's so strange, given everything we've been through. I've never heard him sound afraid.

_"I am monitoring Commander Shepard's vitals,"_ EDI says. _"They are strained, but he is still uninjured."_

The _Normandy_ isn't firing. There's no familiar shudder from the twin cannons. But we do shake from a near miss, and even with the inertia dampeners I can tell we're clawing for altitude.

"Dammit, Joker, go back!" I yell, and then I scream from the effort. The light changes and we're in the med bay. 

"Kaidan, stop moving. You have six inches of reinforced titanium rod sticking out from between your ribs," Chakwas says. I hadn't even noticed. "EDI will give me updates, but you have to lie still."

"You've done all you can," Liara says timidly. I realize she's crying, too. "Kaidan, he'll be - "

I lose her words in the pain and the chaos. Everything is blurred and distant. Chakwas is giving machine gun-paced orders. I scream when the med techs start stripping off my armor, blanching from the smell of burning flesh. They brought Garrus up right behind me. I think Liara's holding each of our hands. He's silent, and I can't turn to see him - to see if he's - I scream again from the doubled pain in my side. A robotic arm swings over to cut through the rod that impaled me so they can remove my chest plate. The vibrations cut through the fog and the room clears a little. I have no sense of how long it's been since I felt his hand on my cheek. I try to raise my head, and a blinding streak drives me back into the bed. My damn implant is spiking. Chakwas recognizes my grimace and rushes over.

"Kaidan, we need to sedate you so we can finish the operation," she says. 

_Calm, she's always so fucking_ calm _._

"No, no, no, don't make me sleep, not now," I stutter. I know I'm going into shock. I don't care. If I go under, I don't know if I'll ever wake up. And I have to know if he made it.

"I'm not asking, Major Alenko," she says, and I do see her composure show the barest hint of a crack as she sticks my arm with the canister needle. "We'll be alright. And we'll be right here when you wake up."

"Liara, please, make her - " I stop when I see her face. She isn't looking at me, though. Her eyes stare in shock at one of the monitors. Then one of the med techs breaks protocol and reads what it says before anyone can stop him.

"Doctor! Admiral Anderson's vitals just flatlined and Commander Shepard's are tanking fa- " Chakwas cuts him off with a slap. 

The med bay falls silent. The sedative doesn't work fast enough to keep me from seeing the horror spread through the room. I start slipping into unconsciousness and I no longer care what happens to me. I didn't realize how much hope I'd held onto until this moment where it all collapsed into the blackest dread. The drugs finally pull me under, and I wonder which of us will greet the other in whatever's beyond. 

But I do wake up. And it's over.


	2. Liara 1 - Unknown Directive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Normandy is stranded on an unknown planet following the aftermath of the Crucible blast. With Kaidan Alenko in a coma and without Shepard to lead them, they have crucial decisions to make.

From the personal log of Dr. Liara T'Soni aboard the SSV _Normandy_ :

_"We did not truly know what was happening when we fled Earth. I only learned most of this after we crashed. Right as we evacuated Kaidan and Garrus - and left Shepard on his own - Admiral Hackett gave a general order for all space-worthy craft to move to their assigned quarters in anticipation of forming a defensive perimeter around the Crucible. Joker was ready to disobey and send us on another potentially suicidal run against Harbinger. EDI's combat suites had kept the Reaper at bay long enough to evacuate our wounded ground team, but she could not risk another such assault so soon and expect similar results. In the end we would not have made any difference even if we had been in attack position - Harbinger had already wiped out the entire ground assault. Perhaps getting revenge on it would have been a worthy end of us, but the other Reapers that had joined Harbinger were positioning themselves to defend against such a reprisal. So we left Earth's atmosphere and joined the desperate fight again. As long as I live, I will never forget Kaidan's anguish when he realized we truly were abandoning his love. And he still has not woken from his coma._

_"Up above, we were a pebble in a sea of roiling boulders. The capital ships of our united fleets were playthings to the Reapers. Our cannons were virtually useless against them. I only saw the end of the battle from the bridge after I left the medbay. At that point, Shepard was still alive. But even with my negligible knowledge of human physiology, it was clear he was dying quickly. Tali was there on the bridge as well, silent and watching but helping monitor subsystems. She told me later that for once she couldn't stand being in the engine room not knowing what was happening. Joker and EDI moved in perfect beautiful unison. They were doing their best to stay close to the Crucible so we could extract Shepard. And I stood there completely helpless._

_"I did not know that we were on a private channel with Admiral Hackett and Shepard. There was interminable silence until Shepard finally responded to a hail. The Admiral told him that the Crucible wasn't firing. We heard him respond for the last time, asking what he needed to do. I accessed his vitals remotely, and they had dropped even more. Admiral Hackett tried to raise him repeatedly, but there was nothing but silence. Then I did something I had not done in decades - I began to cry. All our efforts had been wasted. We failed with our fingertips brushing victory. And the Reapers were driving our ships further apart. My only solace seemed that we would not be forced to live with our shame for long._

_"I turned to leave the bridge because I did not wish to see any more, and that is when the impossible happened. Every sensor and warning light on the ship went off at once. I thought we had been hit until I heard Joker’s triumphant shout. The Crucible was cycling on and was preparing to do... whatever it was supposed to do._

_"As I said before, we had little idea what was happening in those moments. Admiral Hackett gave the order to retreat through the Relay to the rendezvous point, and this time Joker did ignore him. We, as he was fond of saying, turned and burned back to the Crucible. The energy spikes had knocked out the channel to Shepard and some of our other communications. We did not know if he was even still alive, but we were going for him anyway._

_"We were too far. EDI's analysis showed that any ship in close proximity to the Crucible would likely be destroyed regardless of its allegiance. And even burning at one-hundred and twenty percent meant we would be right in the middle of the blast with no time to even locate Shepard - let alone escape with him. I put my hand on Joker's shoulder. He knew, we all knew that it was done. He swore and sobbed and changed course, perhaps the most 'Jeff' thing he could have done. We shot right past the Crucible even as the blast formed. Tali ran from the bridge to help Engineer Adams. I ran with her but went to the War Room to try to make sense of the situation and our comms. The last garbled transmission we received from Earth sounded something like, 'Crucible firing; Reapers falling.'_

_"We were one of the last ships to pass through the Relay ahead of the blast. It followed us through. No, that is incorrect. We were in its way. We thought we could outrun it and slip through a gap, but it expanded to the size of solar systems and caught us. There was a brief flash through the ship and then darkness before the emergency systems kicked in. And -"_

My words falter. Again. It's taken me hours to get that much out.

"Is everything alright, ma'am?" Glyph asks me.

"No, I - I mean, yes. I need to take a break," I say. I don't want to relive the rest of our escape again right now.

No, I'm lying to myself. That piece is Joker’s story to tell. And in any case, it’s time for our meeting.

I sit back and look out my viewport at the strange world we crashed on. From what I gather, we jumped blind and Joker left it entirely to EDI's processors to choose the destination with the highest chance for our survival. And we did survive. EDI gave us that much.

I leave my room and don’t have to go far. Almost everyone is gathered at the mess table. I nod to Doctor Chakwas through the window. She has hardly left Kaidan's side and he is still under sedation. More of a mercy now, I think, until we have a real plan. She checks his monitor once more and makes to join us. One of her attendants wheels Garrus out to the table despite his terrible wound, and I smile weakly at his visible annoyance. He nods back to me and shivers despite the warmth of the stale, humid air. James rushes to the crew quarters and returns with one of his sweatshirts. Garrus chuffs at the offer, but accepts. James helps him into it before gently rolling the right sleeve above his amputation. I can’t find any comforting words to say to him yet, so I take my seat next to Tali. Specialist Traynor hands her a small holographic projector.

She stands and says, "Well, everyone, let's get started?" We all remain silent, hardly looking at each other. Exhaustion lines all of our faces. James and Steve, sitting together at the opposite end from us, are utterly silent. Engineer Adams is tapping impatiently on the table. Regardless of what we decide here, he has much work to do. Joker is absent, but I can’t say I blame him. Specialist Traynor sits ready with another datapad for posterity. The rest of the crew is patching up the ship and getting us space-worthy again.

"Well, erm, it’s been two days and we haven't been able to get an exact read on our location. Our communications - long-range broadbeam and the QEC - are still down, as well as seventy percent of our other systems. This is still twenty percent better than where we were before, so it’s not all bad," Tali says. There is humor but no laughter in her voice. It’s progress, anyway.

"So, I gathered us here because Specialist Traynor and I found this while we were running diagnostics," she says more timidly. "It was in Shepard's room. I - I believe it's his last directive."

I nod. He planned thoroughly. His priority standing directive on the _Normandy_ was survival: "We do what we have to do to make sure the mission succeeds. And we make it out." Those were his words. It’s good he left us something more detailed in his absence.

"Play it," Garrus said. It’s the first time I’ve heard him speak since we evaced him and Kaidan, and the heavy guilt in his voice brings tears to my eyes. Tali nods, sets it in the middle of the table, and activates it. A one-meter high hologram of our friend appears and spins slowly so each of us may see his face.

_"This is the final directive of Commander John Shepard of the SSV Normandy, Alliance Military, N7 Program, Spectre, general agent of mayhem and destruction. But you all know that seeing as each of you helped with that mayhem and chaos at some point, and some of you had more fun with it."_

His joke actually does lighten the mood. Still, none of us laughs.

_"I've had a bad feeling about my odds of making it out of this alive since we left Thessia. Before, even, if I'm being honest. I won't make assumptions about which of you found this or how many of you are left or which of you is still there. But I will assume that you're only watching this because something went sideways and I didn't make it off of Earth or the Citadel."_

EDI's voice breaks through. _"Commander, I have compiled an extensive list of every possible crew combination in several situations if you wish to record messages for each of the twelve factorial - "_

_"No, EDI."_

_"That was a joke."_ We still don’t laugh, but I manage a small smile.

_"As I was saying, if you made it and I didn't then I'm hoping it's because the Crucible worked but it took everything from me to make it happen. For the record, wherever I am I'm pissed as hell. I can't even guess as to what state you and the Normandy are in, so I’ll try to keep this as generic as I can. The original directive stands: finish the mission, survive. And if we - you - completed that one, then I have a replacement directive: live - and enjoy whatever light there is still left in the galaxy. That’s an order."_

Some of us look to each other. Since we haven’t heard from any of our species' highest commanders, we’re not completely certain that we did in fact win.

_"To do that, you'll have to work together like we always have. If I'm not there or if Kaidan isn't, or - Kaidan, if you can’t - then I want you to elect someone to take point for the team's remaining work. Our chain of command, such as it is, has always been loose since half of us aren't Alliance. I trust any one of the command crew, for lack of better words, to keep you safe and make sure you complete this directive. And I won't even help you narrow down the options because the last thing you need is me picking favorites. So, yeah, have fun with that."_

The hologram Shepard pauses. _"I've left some instructions here for most of you in the case of my death, and there are messages that will be sent to each of you as soon as this recording ends. Anderson and Hackett always told me I was their best chance for victory, but you were always what made me believe. You were my best hope for the future. It was my distinct honor to serve with you - and a pleasure to know most of you."_

Half of the table laughs softly. Finally.

_"This is Commander Shepard. Signing off - "_ The hologram shines brightly as Shepard smiles before saying _" - I should go."_

And the rest of us laugh through our tears. Tali stands again and the rest of us look to her. I’m grateful at least that she is taking the initiative here.

"Commander Shepard has left us a directive and instructions to complete it. Given the last transmission we received, I say we act on them as he hoped - that the Reapers are gone and we have won." There are nods all around the table. "Good. Is there anyone who doesn’t wish to be considered for command - no, that was his role. We should say leader for now."

Engineer Adams raises his hand. "My part of his prime directive is clear. Get the ship running. I'm going back down to engineering, if that's all. And like the Commander, I support everyone in this room."

James speaks. "You sure, Eezo? Could be your chance to earn some wings."

Adams laughs and shakes his head. "I'm not command crew. Leader of the grunts maybe, but not of this ship."

Steve also speaks. "I'm also out. There’s enough to worry about down in the cargo bay without learning how to do each of your jobs, too. Let us know who you pick." He gets up with Adams, and they start discussing engine couplings as they head to the ladder hatch down to Engineering.

Doctor Chakwas leans forward, "I'm also not command crew, but it is my physician’s prerogative to speak on behalf of Kaidan. Considering our present situation, it is my physician's recommendation that he _not_ be considered at this time. Despite what Shepard said in the hologram, they both understood that if one of them were to perish then my right to ground the other on the basis of being emotionally compromised would be upheld. And even if we were to reestablish communications and learn that Shepard has survived, the stress of command would be too great for Kaidan given his trauma. He is recovering, yes, but in no position to lead."

"I agree," I say. "Though he should still have a say as Shepard's XO, technically speaking."

"I won't wake him up just so he can cast a vote, Liara," she replies.

"How's this?" James asks. "We pick someone now and they're acting _jefe_ until Major L2 wakes up, and then we make it official. That work for you, Scars?"

Garrus nods. "I think that's fair. Tali? Liara?"

We both nod and James smiles. "Good. That's fixed. So what about Wings? He's high enough on the chain of command.”

No one says anything, but the temperature at the table drops. From what Steve has told us, Joker’s in no state to continue his duties. Doctor Chakwas speaks again.

“Jeff is also emotionally compromised, as you’ve all guessed. He and I had a conversation similar to Shepard and Kaidan’s when he formally began a relationship with EDI, and despite his jokes he acknowledged the risks and accepted my medical authority in such a situation. I am monitoring his vitals, and Steve has informed me that he’s still coherent and stable enough to provide limited support in addressing the _Normandy’s_ technical needs. But I’m not clearing him for active duty until he - emerges - and I can run a full psych evaluation.”

“Yeah, we’re working on that,” James says. “Poor guy.”

Garrus bristles. “He has a job to do, Vega.”

“Let’s not do this again, please?” Tali insists wearily. “Not now - not with - ”

Garrus tries to stand, but she puts her hand on his shoulder. “ _We_ have a job to do. For Shepard. We can discuss what to do about Joker later.”

Garrus holds up a hand in silent acknowledgement and looks at James. “Sorry.”

James just nods. “We’re good, Scars. And I get it. We all need to pull through here. That said, I’m going back down to help Esteban."

"You're also part of the command crew, James," I offer. "And the highest-ranking officer after Kaidan."

He shakes his head, "Nah, you three and Major L2 are the originals, you know? Not my place to take command of this ship. And rank or not, I don't have any right to act otherwise. I'm here for whatever you need. Doctor Chakwas, can you check that cut on my shoulder for me? I think it might be infected."

"Of course," she replies. “I’ll join you in a moment.”

James leaves with a nod to the rest of us, and Doctor Chakwas stands. Her shoulders hunch and I rise to embrace her.

“Thank you, Liara,” she whispers before patting my shoulder. I release her and step aside, having done all I can for her. “I’m still - I can’t believe he might be gone again. I’d hoped... ”

“Let’s agree to keep holding out hope,” Tali says, looking down at Shepard’s still image. “For him. Until we know for sure.”

Garrus also stands, though not without relying on Tali’s hand. “He’s never let us down yet.”

[ _Shepard's Final Directive_ ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/thepixelagora)

The four of us stand in silence for several minutes before Doctor Chakwas reminds all of us to check in with her later and leaves to attend to James. I look to my two friends and then into the window of the medbay where I can just make out the rise and fall of Kaidan’s steady breaths. This is not a decision any of us ever wanted to consider.

I speak first. "I have no wish to lead us right now and I trust both of you completely."

"Oh, nice, Liara," Garrus says. "Remove yourself from the equation so you don't have to make a decision. Wonder who you learned that from."

I smile and respond, "Perhaps you should be glad Wrex isn’t here. You’re stuck in a chair and I think he could handle you easily."

I make both of them laugh. Good. I hope that I’m at least able to keep our spirits high and competitiveness down. We don’t need infighting, even in jest.

Garrus speaks again. "I think I finally have to admit that I'm old and need some rest. So my vote is for Tali."

Her face is unreadable behind her mask, but her body language says she’s both flattered and surprised. "Me? I didn't ask for this for myself," she says.

"Yeah, I know but who better than a quarian admiral to lead a shipful of miscreants on a pilgrimage back to civilization?" Garrus jokes. I think. I’ve never quite gotten all of his humor, but I also know they’ve recently found great comfort in each other. _Finally_.

"That’s true, Tali. You have a good deal of experience leading crews out of tough spots," I say. I reach for her hand and squeeze it. "I vote for you, too, my friend."

She also looks over at the medbay. " _Keelah_. I guess I don't have much of a choice right now then, do I? I accept provisional - what did James call it? _Jefe?_ Leadership, whatever it is. But I want you two to promise me that we'll have a full vote when Kaidan is awake."

Garrus and I nod, and we all sit again. Specialist Traynor hands a command datapad to Tali for biometric verification. Something undefined, something _heavy_ we don’t acknowledge, passes between us and Specialist Traynor leaves.

"Here, my friend," I tell Garrus. "Let me help you back to the med bay." Tali takes my hand first and then reaches down to pull Garrus's remaining hand into ours. We need to grieve, each of us on our own and together. Shepard didn’t say anything about that in his directive, but we all felt it. Tali and I push Garrus back into the medbay and we gather around Kaidan's bed.

_How will we tell him that we’re stranded lightyears from anyone who knows if our grief is truly warranted? And when we return, will we find victory or damnation?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I'm ridiculously excited to share how our beloved crew gets out of this mess and finds out what really happened over Earth!
> 
> Artist credit to the wonderful Pixel Agora! Their Tumblr can be found by clicking the image description link.


	3. Tali 1 - Fighting Despair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tali'Zorah assumes command of the Normandy, grapples with her new responsibilities, and looks after one particularly special turian.

From the logs of Admiral Tali’Zorah vas Normandy, acting captain of the SSV _Normandy_ by emergency declaration of its crew - Day 4 after the Battle of the Crucible

_“By the common laws of Citadel space and the Systems Alliance I am, technically speaking, a pirate. I was given no direct order from a military superior to take command of this ship, and we have bypassed the legal chain of command to ensure our own survival. I believe this is the best executed and least violent mutiny ever to occur. For the record, if such things matter anymore, I’ll step aside when Major Kaidan Alenko recovers and is cleared to assume command or, in the unlikely event of his death, return the ship to its rightful owners. I’m including Specialist Traynor’s report to this log to verify our unity in this decision._

_"I will also include technical reports from Engineer Adams and newly appointed Crew Chief Cortez. In short, the_ Normandy _needs a month of dry-dock repairs, we are stuck on a planet without any modern facilities, and our shipboard AI “EDI” is dead. This is Problem One. All of our long-range communications are down, including the quantum entangler linked to Admiral Hackett’s ship. This is Problem Two, which leads me to the unsolvable Problem Three: we’re completely in the dark. We don’t know if all of the Reaper forces were destroyed; we don’t know if the Crucible was a trap to destroy our allied forces; we don’t know if any of us has a home or a civilization to return to. If we do succeed in repairing the_ Normandy _, we could be one of the last space flights this galaxy will see for eons._

_"The good news, the only good news, is that we the crew are mostly alive and well. Doctor Chakwas had to amputate Garrus Vakarian’s right arm at the elbow because of his injuries. Given the nature of the damage, her working theory is that he pushed either Major Alenko or Commander Shepard out of the way of something like a falling tank and took the full crushing weight of it. Garrus doesn’t remember what happened. Doctor Chakwas assures him a prosthetic will allow him to be a fully-functional soldier again. Some of us, including Garrus, are toying with the idea of attaching a sniper rifle to his stump permanently to save him the trouble of retraining. Doctor Chakwas was... not amused, so that will have to wait until later. Major Alenko is improving, a credit to his conditioning and Doctor Chakwas’s skills. He suffered severe internal injuries. It’s amazing he held out as long as he did once we brought him onboard. Doctor Chakwas has determined that the worst of the danger has passed, and his brain scans are completely normal for an L2 biotic. We’re still debating when we should wake him up. We’ll likely need him to help us get the_ Normandy _back to one hundred percent, but we don’t know what his mental state will be like. It would almost be a blessing if he didn’t remember those last few hours, but I doubt that will happen. So, for now, we’ve decided to let him recover until we get our communications back online. Better he knows what happened than not. Our pilot, Joker, is another story. He’s essentially locked himself in the AI room where EDI was housed, but he takes the food and water we’ve been leaving for him. We’ll make sure he’s good to fly before the ship is ready._

_"Losing EDI has been devastating. While each of us has a great deal of experience maintaining and fixing at least part of the_ Normandy _, we’ve lost the heart of the ship. Or the brain. I don’t know, that bit is still confusing. Either way, without her to run thousands of diagnostics and tests and simulations almost instantly we’re working at a kavorkial slug’s pace. The best news we’ve gotten from engineering is that the drive core is completely intact, but our power sources are largely depleted. Engineer Adams, crewers Donnelly and Daniels, and I are working to get it back online by rerouting our emergency power systems into it so - well, skipping the technobabble, we can jump start the ship. Keelah, it feels so insulting to the_ Normandy _to talk about it like it’s an ancient chemical rocket. Or a skycar. Anyway, once we do that we’ll slowly ramp it up until we’re at one hundred percent power. And the engines shouldn’t need too much work. I hope. And with full power, we can focus on getting our comms back online. But if Admiral Hackett’s ship was destroyed, the quantum entanglement equipment may be useless and we’ll have to use conventional communication methods. I - don’t even want to think about how many years it might take someone to hear our distress beacons. Once power is restored, we’ll be able to get our telemetry systems working again so we can at least figure out where we are and_

_"So, I guess that’s where we are with everything. The ship is quiet. Morale is impossible to judge. ‘Stuck’ is a good word for it. It’s the most terrible feeling, not knowing if everything we’ve been through was worth it in the end. Or what we’ll be returning to. But we’re working to get unstuck, and we’re united by Commander Shepard’s final directive. None of us knows what that will look like once we get off this planet, but I can think of worse fates than being with this crew.”_

~ End log ~

I sit back and reach for my drink. It’s the only one I’ve had since I sat here commiserating with Shepard about Sanctuary and losing Miranda. He didn’t laugh at my “emergency induction port.” I said it hoping he would find it amusing. He’d had the full weight of the galaxy on him then. I wanted to give him a moment of levity. At least that’s what I tell myself I meant to do. Now that I think about it, writing my first captain’s log with a drink in my hand may not have been the best idea. Then again, I’m not Alliance and there may not be a Systems Alliance at all so I finish the drink and pour myself another. A smaller one. I do need to sleep soon. We’re running the first core test in the morning. The door opens and Garrus walks in under his own power without one of the med techs. 

“Hey, there,” he says. “They told me you were using the port cabin for your quarters.”

“And you’re out of the med bay,” I respond. “It felt wrong to take Shepard’s quarters for myself. Shut the door behind you, Vakarian.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies and does as I say. “Command already going to your head, I see.”

“Well, you know, I could get used to it. I’d threaten to flush you out of the airlock if you didn’t obey, but seeing as we’re landlocked it’s admittedly very empty.” I walk to him and lead him to one of the sofas. His balance is off and he’s still shaky on his feet. “How are you feeling?”

He shrugs. “Chakwas is managing the pain just fine. And she told me there’s no sign of infection, so I guess that’s as good as it can be for now.”

“Garrus.” I shift and take his hand. “I wasn’t asking about your injuries.”

He doesn’t say anything, so I let him take his time. After a few minutes he shudders against me. “I can’t believe we left him.”

I don’t try to comfort him. He needs to say whatever he needs to now that it’s finally just us.

“He chose us. He _needed_ us. That’s what he told us when he pulled us aside before the final push. He said he hated doing it to us, but he knew he could rely on us no matter what.” Garrus looks over at me like he’s startled. “Tali, that doesn’t mean - he trusted everyone on the crew - ”

I put my hand on his shoulder. “You don’t need to justify anything to me. It’s alright. Shepard chose well. The three of you always made so much sense as a squad. You took down Saren together. _You_ helped him cure the genophage.”

He clicks his mandibles together and nods before hanging his head. “It wasn’t enough this time. _I_ wasn’t enough, Tali. He put his faith in me. It was a mistake. I couldn’t - I didn’t follow him like I’d promised.”

“Garrus, no,” I cry. “You didn’t fail him. And you didn’t leave him.”

“Yes, I did,” he insists quietly. “There’s nothing that can change that.”

I change tactics, pulling his chin toward me gently. “Garrus, my love. Listen to me. You know he made the right call to evac you and Kaidan. You both would have died, and you would have slowed him down. Even though the mission came first, he needed to know someone was making it out of there alive. You gave that to him; you gave him _Kaidan_. Whether or not he’s the one you shoved out of the way of that tank, you got him out of London. Think about that hope and how much it would have meant to Shepard knowing that he was going to be okay. You may have given him the last bit of hope he needed to push forward, even if it was for the last time. Do you hear me?”

He chuffs softly, deeply in his chest. And he straightens up. All good signs that he’s still as strong as I know he is. “I hear you. Can we talk about something else now?”

“Of course. We’re going to be alright, Garrus. I believe that. We just need to get the ship up and running.”

“How bad is it? Really?” he asks. He takes my hand and I lean my head on his shoulder. 

“Not as bad as when the Collectors hit that first time,” I say. “But if this core test fails tomorrow, we may be stuck here for a very long time.”

“So, good news and bad news that could be worse. Sounds about right for us. How can I help?” 

“You’re not going to like it,” I say bracingly. “I think we’re going to need to, erm, modify the main cannons.”

“My guns? _My_ guns?” he jokes drily. “No hands are touching them except this one.”

I take his hand and bring it to my helmet where my mouth would be. I haven’t been able to take my suit off and risk infection since we crashed. If something goes wrong, I won’t survive. And right now I hate the suit. “We need to pull the energy coils and superchargers so we can use them to help start the core. The diagnostics we ran earlier show that we can bleed some power from the emergency systems into them over the next few months and then we'll have enough to jump the core."

Garrus sighs. “Yeah, I thought that might be the case. All those hours of calibrations just, pfft, out the viewport.”

“We can add ‘Garrus’s calibrations’ to the memorial wall, if you’d like,” I say.

“Bossy, mean, and funny,” he chuckles. “I do love that in a woman. But I’ll pass on the memorial wall. They’d take up the entire bulkhead if we included every single one. But speaking of that wall...”

“Do we need to talk about this now?” I ask. I didn’t want to talk about it. I don’t even think I can.

“We do before we wake up Kaidan,” he says softly. “How - what the hell do we even say?”

“We tell him what we do know, that we aren’t sure what happened when we left Earth. We lost the signal to Shepard’s comms and vitals before the Crucible fired. And then we lost contact with everyone. But we get our damn communications up and contact somebody, anybody before anything else. And if no one answers - if no one - ”

My voice rises before I break down. I can’t face the idea that everything collapsed. That all of our fleets are gone. 

“Shhhhhhh, here,” Garrus croons. He shifts to the side and lets me slide down so my head is laying in his lap. My body wracks with the grief I hadn’t felt until this moment. 

“Hold me,” I whisper. He does, and I drift off into sleep. I don’t dream. And he’s still there in the morning when I wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> Pirate Tali was an idea that popped into my head immediately, and picturing her in a giant hat with a parrot is what got me through writing her and Garrus's grief.


	4. Garrus 1 - Firing Solution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wounded and on edge, Garrus wrestles with losing two of the most important things in his life - Shepard, and his guns. While he works through his lingering guilt about London, the crew works on a way of getting Normandy back online so they can return to civilization.

"Be careful with that power coupling!" I yell. The marine pulls his hands back and barely understands that he almost just killed himself and stranded us here. "Move back. Now."

I shoulder him out of the way and almost fall on my ass. Between my unexpected loss of a few kilos from my right side and the pain meds Doctor Chakwas keeps giving me, my balance isn't exactly perfect. The marine trips over his own feet as he backs up.

 _Fucking_ spirits _, that was close._

"Hey, Scars, go easy on the kids," James Vega says. "They're as far from home as we are." 

"Lieutenant Commander Vega, please explain to the fuckwits that we're not going anywhere if they blow these _live_ power couplings, get themselves electrocuted, and strand us here," I say. The marine pales and looks at one of his friends for comfort. All he gets is another look of shock. "Oh, never mind. I think I got my point across."

I kneel and beckon Adams down to me. “Bring up your omnitool - carefully - and scan.”

"Shit, you're right, I see our problem," Engineer Adams says, like we’re just casually discussing where to eat dinner or something. "The energy coils and superchargers held on to their charge even after we fired our last shot over Earth."

"Correct. Which we've never had happen before because usually we're shooting for much, much longer and they're supposed to be vented after use," I say, shaking my head in utter pissed-off disbelief. "So no one followed procedure while I was getting my arm hacked off _and_ some tech screwed up a line somewhere in here. The power could loop back on itself if we pull the wrong one. Not much of a problem in combat since the cannons are obviously discharging more than they're taking in, but now they've been hot for five days without us knowing."

"So we got lucky, plain as shit lucky," Adams says. "These paired with our emergency power might be enough on their own to jump the drive. We could have it going this morning instead of in a month."

"Also correct," I respond. "But here's the kicker. If we hook up to the wrong coils, we could reverse the flow and send a few blasts worth of power straight into the emergency system and fry every circuit in the ship."

"Holy shit," Vega whispers.

"Yes, James, holy shit." I pull myself further under the starboard cannon. "I missed it because I assumed the Alliance's best would know that black goes with black, red goes with red, and yellow goes with yellow."

Underneath here I can actually hear the humming of the power through fifteen centimeters of the strongest alloy in the galaxy. A ship made of the stuff would never make an atmo takeoff or landing, but damn it would be practically invincible. The power reading shows up on my visor and I smile to myself.

"James, please inform the acting captain that we have enough energy to jumpstart the drive core," I call. “We’ll be down after we run some more tests.”

"You got it, Scars," he says and heads out the door before pausing. "Hey, is 'Scars' still the best nickname for you? Could update it to 'Stumpy' or 'Tank' instead. Kinda a pre-slash-post-London thing?"

"Sure, those sound great," I say, not bothering to look out at him. "Marine Fuckwit, will you show Lieutenant Commander Vega where he can stick that tongue of his?"

So help me, the marine actually steps forward and points at the coupling before Adams steps between him and our ticket off this rock.

"Corporal," Adams hisses. "Get. Out. Now." I swear I could kiss him. The marines leave while Adams yells at them to go stand at attention somewhere until Vega tells them to do something else. Military aptitude at its finest.

"Help me up," I say. Adams reaches down and I take his hand so I can slide out. I hate feeling so incapable.

"So what's our plan?" he asks me.

“We need to run some simulations. Now that we know we’re sitting on a power bomb, we have to figure out how to make sure it explodes in the right direction.”

The next hour quickly turns into one of the most terrifying in my life. Complicated doesn’t even begin to cover how hard it’s going to be to pull this off. Especially because we can’t physically touch one of the components. There’s only one scenario that will work, and the margin for error is nonexistent. I lean up against the wall and scratch at my fringe.

“Only leaves one option,” Adams tells me. “It has to be both of them.”

I growl my assent, and he doesn’t look any happier than I am. This isn’t going to go down well with everyone else.

"Head down to Engineering and gather everyone for a little meeting," I say. “I’ll go talk to Doctor Chakwas.”

We leave the gunnery station and I lock the door behind me. I won’t risk anyone going in there for any reason when we may only have this one chance. He heads to the elevator while I go to the medbay. The ship’s air purifiers must not be operating at peak because I can still smell hints of antiseptic sprays and medigels and less pleasant aromas from Kaidan’s and my injuries.

“Garrus, do you need something?” Doctor Chakwas asks me without looking up. She’s leaning over Kaidan and spraying a new layer of flesh on his burned chest. The tech who blurted out Anderson’s death and maybe Shepard’s won’t look me in the eye either and focuses on his data pad.

“I’m feeling alright, Doc,” I say. “As well as can be expected. How is he?”

She brushes his hair back and sprays a thinner line on his temple and along his cheek. “His internal injuries are no longer critical. He still needs a minor operation to regenerate some muscle tissue along his side, but the rest of his treatments will be minor and cosmetic.”

“Good, that’s good,” I say and shift my feet. “Listen, uh, I need to know how long it would take us to wake him up.”

“Are you asking about right now or generally? Did Tali change her mind about waking him before our communications are back online?” she asks, setting the flesh gun down and picking up another scanner.

“Not exactly,” I reply. “It’s something we still need to discuss, but I think we’re going to need him to help bring the core back online.”

“He won’t be doing anything like that today if that’s what you need,” she responds. “When I get him off the sedatives and give him some stims, he’ll be awake within half an hour and may even be on his feet after a few hours. But he’ll still need several days to recover before exerting any physical strain.”

“That’s alright, he won’t be doing any krogan heavy-lifting. What about his biotics?” I ask.

“Biotics are still physically demanding,” she says firmly. “Especially with his history of migraines. And I’ll remind you he’s still not cleared for command.”

“I understand that, Doc, we just - ”

“And I didn’t technically clear you for work either.” She sets the scanner down, apparently satisfied, and turns to me. “Garrus. How many hours have you worked today?”

“Let’s see. If it’s just after 1400 now, then call it ten hours.”

“And how many yesterday after you snuck out while I was in with Joker?”

“Another ten if you call writing reports with our illustrious captain ‘work’.”

Her glare is hardly softened by her sigh. “You need more rest than that. And you know how costly any mistakes would be for us now.”

I nod and sit. “I do. Which is why we’ve got each team triple-checking each other’s work. Per the captain’s orders, of course.”

“Tali certainly knows what she’s doing.”

“That she does. Still…”

“Shepard would be proud of her. And you.”

I look up at her. “I’m not worried about us. As bleak as this has been looking, I’m really not. We’ll pull together like always and we’ll find a way back.”

“But?”

“If Shepard’s gone, again, this time it was my fault. And don’t - please don’t tell me it wasn’t.” I head her off from contradicting me, but she didn’t even start to say anything. I groan at my mistake and blunder ahead. “Everyone keeps telling me it wasn’t my fault, that I did him a favor by saving Kaidan if that’s even what happened. But we all know Shepard was already hurt when he got to the Citadel. And then he was alone. None of that is supposed to happen if your squad does their damn jobs.”

She regards me for a full minute before speaking. “Garrus Vakarian. Shepard rallied the entire galaxy to push through to Earth, to storm London, to drive forward regardless of the cost in order to give him once chance at ending the Reapers, and you believe _you_ were the linchpin of all this?”

It feels so wrong to want to laugh. But when she says it like that…

“I guess I have occasionally thought too highly of myself,” I chuckle.

“Not at all,” she counters. “It’s just easy to lose perspective in moments like these. When Shepard charged off after you were evaced, he knew Kaidan was still alive. Do you honestly believe he’d let death try to stop him from getting back to him?”

I shake my head. “No. No, you’re right. If he thought there was even the slimmest chance at getting a happy ending out of all this then he’d figure out a way to get it.”

“I agree. So do what you need to do to cope, but don’t despair. It’s unbecoming,” she says, putting a hand on my shoulder.

“Can do, Doc. Thank you. Now, what about Kaidan?”

“While I would prefer you finding a way to bring the core online and reestablish communications without him so we can answer what will surely be his first question, if he’s the only one who can help then it is what it is and can’t be helped. Has Tali been told yet?”

“No, I need to clear it with her.”

“Very well,” she says. “Clear it with her, and then we can discuss our options and a timeline. But please do take Kaidan’s mental health into account. I’d also prefer to give him more time to rest.” 

“So would I, but right now we need every option on the table.”

She nods. “Please report back to me once your meeting is over. I need you to rest for a few hours, even if you don’t sleep. I’ll send James after you if you don’t.”

“Yes, ma’am.” There are some threats you just don’t laugh at.

She nods me out of the medbay, and I head to Engineering. I can see down into the cargo hold where James is making the marines from upstairs do intense calisthenics. That’s the military for you. I turn toward the core, and the room is creepy without the familiar hum. Everyone is gathered at Adams’s station. I hate what I’m about to tell them. 

“Garrus! James says we have enough energy to jumpstart the core directly because the cannons retained their charge!” Tali says. She’s practically jumping up and down, and I love her for it. “Engineer Adams was just filling us in on some of the specifics.”

“A low-level jump, yes,” I say. Daniels and Donnelly look skeptical which is understandable. “Through complete luck and the sheer idiocy of whatever tech touched my guns before the battle over Earth, we have just under seventeen gigawatts of stored energy we didn’t know we had.”

“A normal jump at a dry dock or from a capital ship would be twenty-five gigas, but the minimum threshold we need is only twelve,” Adams adds. “Still, once the drive is going, I’ll want to let it charge over three or four days to full power.”

“That’s incredible news! So much faster than a month!” Tali says. Liara smiles beside her. Daniels and Donnelly are too shocked to do anything. “Good job, both of you!”

I hold my hand up. “Before you start handing out medals and commendations - ”

“Of course there’s a catch,” Donnelly says. “There’s always some catch.”

“Be quiet, Kenneth,” Daniels says.

“There’s a catch,” I confirm. “The guns are built in such a way that there are redundant superchargers which catch any excess energy so it doesn’t get shunted back into other parts of our power systems and overload them. The tech that screwed up crossed a cable and now one of those superchargers is also plugged directly into our emergency power. Right now it’s basically inert, stable, and acting as a block - think of it as a dam holding back a river. But we don’t know which one it is and in order to move this amount of power from the guns to the core they _all_ have to be active.”

“So if we switch off all of our emergency power first, that should solve the problem, right?” Liara asks. She’s tracking but this isn’t quite her specialty. I shake my head.

“No, the emergency system is acting like a spillway and drawing out just enough power that the cannon system is stable. The river isn’t pushing through the dam. But if we switch off the emergency power, that blocking supercharger will be instantly overpowered and destroyed.”

“Like if the dam suddenly disappeared,” Tali said. “All the water behind it would flood out and destroy everything in its path.”

I nod. “Exactly. So we have to move all of that water around the dam at the same time without using the spillway because it can’t handle the flow -” 

“I’ve got it! We move the water with a mass field!” Donnelly shouts. We all stare at him. “What?”

“We need a new spillway.” Daniels says, rolling her eyes. “Honestly, Kenneth, how you became an engineer is beyond me.”

“Can it, you two,” Adams says.

“Daniels does have the gist of it, if we make a new river,” I say. No one says anything. “Ok, so I’m bad at analogies. It makes perfect sense in my head, I -”

Tali saves me. “Yes, it does. We need to make a brand new connection from the main battery power systems directly to the core without disrupting the emergency power systems. But from what you’re saying, we can’t disconnect anything in either without the power flooding somewhere it shouldn’t.”

“Yes, thank you, Tali,” I say. “The power has to stay where it is until it goes to the core, or it will blow everything to hell. And like I said, all of the superchargers have to be connected and working together to move that amount of power to the right place at the right time. The blocking supercharger has to be properly reconnected to the others at the exact instant we feed the power into the core, _and_ the emergency power has to be disconnected from the supercharger at the same time.”

“So, this rig aside, what this entails is moving and connecting several extremely dangerous live wires at the same time without physically touching them,” Liara says.

“Yes, I suppose I could have just said that,” I concede. "We’re also going to build you a model to practice with because we need to get this right. We're essentially firing the energy output of six cannon shots into the core at once."

“I liked the river analogy just fine,” Donnelly says loudly under his breath. 

“Donnelly, you’re demoted to sanitation specialist,” Adams says. “But before you tackle the plumbing, I’ll need you and Daniels to help build the rig for the core. We’ll need a series of grounded cables and relays down through the service hatches to handle that kind of power in one go. We’ll have to strip the Kodiak and a few other non-essentials. Shit, the stealth system insulators will have to get pulled, too.”

“It’s fine,” Tali says. “If we need our stealth drive when we get back, then, well, I’m sure we won’t have long to wonder what the point of everything was anyway.” 

“Right. We have our problem and its parameters, and I have a solution that no one here is going to like. Since we can’t physically touch the cables and power couplings, the only way to move them is -” 

Liara gasps, “Biotics.” 

I nod. “Goddess bless dark energy for holding a mostly neutral charge.” 

“Garrus, that’s genius,” Daniels says. “The timing will have to be perfect, but I may have a way to give us a tiny amount of lag time. A few milliseconds at the most, but that’s a long time when we’re talking about how fast energy moves. It’s those upgrades Shepard got us before we hit the Collector base. Come on, Donnelly, unless you have some toilets to clean?”

Adams nods to them. “This is the ballsiest thing we’ve done to this ship. I wish I could refuse the plan and go with Tali’s original idea of using the superchargers as batteries, but there’s just no way to safely discharge them first without damaging a dozen systems beyond repair.”

“No,” Tali says. “This is all or nothing.”

“And it sounds like it’s all on me,” Liara says and Tali takes her hand.

“It’s not,” I say softly. “You’re good, Liara, but we’re talking about three moving parts that have to connect in perfect unison. You need help.”

Liara’s eyes harden when she realizes what I mean. “No. Garrus, we said we were going to let Kaidan sleep until we know about Shepard,” she says. Her voice is dangerously soft and pained, risky territory for anyone nearby.

“I’m sorry. We don’t have that luxury anymore.”

“You said you’re building a practice rig for me. Let me have as much time as I need with it until I can get it right,” she insists.

“Liara, he’s right,” Tali says. “We know you can hold your own. We’ve seen you Lift and Throw five Cerberus troops at once. But this is multiple components that need to be held together precisely. Kaidan is laser-focused when he uses his biotics.”

“He’s also still recovering,” Liara argues. “This is enormous pressure to be putting on him when we all know how he’ll react to the news.”

“We know that, too,” Tali says. “We’ll give him as much time as we can, but we have a job to do. _He_ has a job to do.”

“Garrus, you have to find another way.”

“There _isn’t_ and I _can’t_!” I shout. “And that pisses me off, Liara. I’m pissed off that we couldn’t get to Shepard in time. I’m pissed off I couldn’t go with him in the first place. I’m pissed off that we’re stuck who knows where and that the galaxy could be imploding and we’re none the wiser. If we did save the galaxy, I’m pissed off that we might never see it rebuild. I’m pissed off at that idiot tech who turned _my_ gun system into a hair-trigger bomb. And I am _pissed off_ that our only chance out of here means waking our friend up and not having anything to tell him because _not knowing_ what happened to Shepard is a trillion times worse than knowing he’s - that he didn’t - ”

This is the first time I’ve cried since I was a child. Maybe. I don’t even remember, if I’m being honest. All this pain for a turian to shed some tears. 

_Spirits_ , _I didn’t even cry when I saw Palaven burning._

“Garrus…” Tali starts but I brush her off and hang my head, leaning on a dead control panel.

“I know what it’s going to do to Kaidan when we wake him up. I haven’t told you this, I probably shouldn’t, but when we left - when the _Normandy_ came to get us - ” I look over at them again. “They said they loved each other. After everything, all this time, to have what might have been their last moment together be like _that_? It’s cruel. It makes me want to tear the universe apart. That’s going to be the first thing Kaidan thinks about when he wakes up, and if I’d done my damn job things would be different.”

“Goddess,” Liara says and walks over to me. “It wasn’t your fault. We know that and Kaidan will know that, too. You saved one of them. If Shepard’s dead, you couldn’t have given him a greater gift than keeping Kaidan alive.”

“He made it there. We know he did - something. But how could he have survived?” I ask. I’m trembling, falling apart. I can’t help it. “Tell me how he could have survived.”

“Garrus, the blast - whatever the Crucible did, it didn’t target organics,” Tali says. “It’s the only explanation for why we survived when it hit us but EDI didn’t.”

“She has a point,” Liara offers. “We haven’t had much time to theorize about it, but it seems as likely an explanation as any.”

Tali nods. “I just can’t think of anything else that makes sense. I think it may have been targeted for artificial constructs of a certain processing power. If I’m right, then there’s a chance Shepard survived the initial firing. But this is just a guess until we get our comms back online, so we all need to stop dwelling on the unknowns and start solving the problems we can.”

“But Kaidan -” I start.

“Kaidan is stronger than you give him credit for, Garrus,” she tells me and pokes me in the chest. “So I need you on your feet to make this happen. You’re right - there’s no other way to get the _Normandy_ back online without him, and that pisses _me_ off. So, we wake him up, we tell him what we know, and then we work our asses off until we all know the truth. If anything, Kaidan and Shepard deserve a happy ending or closure at the very least because their love might be the purest damn thing left in this _bosh’tet_ galaxy. And that is the end of this discussion. Do - you - read - me - Vakarian?”

Liara and I look at each other before I turn back to this force of nature we’ve unleashed on ourselves. “Yes, ma’am, I read you loud and clear.” 

“Good. Then let’s go up and sit with him so he sees his friends when he wakes up.”

I jump when Adams speaks up from the edge of the drive core behind all of us, “So, can I get an ETA on when we need to have the new power rig ready?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks, as always, to my beta readers who tell me to shut up and let it be when I spend hours trying to get theoretical math for sci-fi ships right when even real-life basic math is hardly my forte.
> 
> And a big shout-out to everyone following along!


	5. Kaidan 2 - Grief All Too Familiar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Left with only one viable solution for getting the Normandy spaceworthy again, the crew wakes up Kaidan Alenko from his medically-induced coma knowing full well what his first question will be. Their survival and the answer are inseparably linked, and Kaidan has to fight to maintain his hard-won discipline like never before.

I’m drifting among the stars. It’s peaceful here. There’s nowhere to go. Nothing pressing to occupy my mind, so I sleep. And I dream within this sleep. I dream of us. It’s nothing in particular. We sit together. We walk together. We don’t speak. There’s no need. We just _are_. And it’s beautiful. If this is death, I’d say we got pretty damn lucky. 

But it isn’t death and it isn’t real. A spasm shoots through my side. I don’t wake but I feel it. Not pain precisely, but it’s awareness. Something from outside these stars and my dreams. I want to ignore it, so I do. I drift further with him.

Time doesn't matter here. Now there are nebulae that take an eon or a second to pass by. Brilliant blues and reds and deep purples and greens. Millions of bright points against the velvety black of this eternal rest.

But it isn't real. The same spasm of awareness rushes through me and it's harder to fight this time. The colors fade away until there are only stars. Shepard feels further from me. I twist and wheel my arms trying to propel my body through the nothingness. Now even the stars are fading and I'm afraid. I'm so afraid, and the awareness is more insistent. The black of space collapses around me and onto me. And then I feel solidity under me. I'm waking up and blinking furiously against the harshness of real light.

"Easy, Kaidan," a voice says. I recognize it, but it's not him. "We're going to sit you up."

Gentle hands on both sides of me help me slide back and up. My vision clears and I see my friends gathered around me. Their names take a moment to form. Garrus, Tali, Liara, Doctor Chakwas. Shepard isn't here, and my heart breaks all over again but I can’t remember _why_. My head is still swimming and I cough hard. Doctor Chakwas holds a small container of water to my lips and helps me drink. My head clears the last of the dream and a rush of scrambled thoughts hit me like an asteroid.

"Breathe normally," Doctor Chakwas says. "Get your bearings. Do you know where you are?"

My chest feels tight, like my skin and muscles shrunk against my ribs. Everything is coming back to me now. "The medbay," I say. "The _Normandy._ "

"Good," she replies. "How do you feel?"

_How long has it been since we - London - Know that I love you -_

"He didn't make it, did he?" I can tell from their faces they've been dreading this moment.

"There's a lot we need to talk about, Kaidan," Tali starts. My breath hitches and she waits until I drink a little more water and stop coughing.

"Please, just tell me," I cry softly. Tali doesn't answer. "Someone, _please_ …"

"Kaidan, we... don't know either way," Liara says. "There's no other way to say it." 

I can't process what she just told me. "What do you - what does that mean?"

"The Crucible fired," Garrus says. My stomach jolts. He's missing half an arm. "We lost Shepard's signal right before, and we were too far out to get him. The ship would have been destroyed. We retreated through the Relay, and we haven't heard anything from anyone since."

“I don’t - “ I cough and down another cup of water. “I don’t understand.”

"The blast followed through the Relay," Tali explains. "We were caught in the wake and crashed on this planet. We lost all communication with the Alliance and the fleets. We don't even know if all the Reapers were destroyed."

I'm numb. I bite my lip to keep from screaming. The not knowing whether our sacrifices were worth anything is worse than being certain he died. And even then, it may have been for nothing. "How long have I been out?"

"It's been a little over five days since the battle," Doctor Chakwas says. "We kept you sedated so you could recover from three emergency operations you needed to survive."

"Is the ship still spaceworthy? Why haven't we left?" I ask. Fury is rising up under my confused grief. "And why haven't we heard anything?"

"The blast crippled the ship and we lost…" Tali says. "It - we think it targeted powerful artificial intelligence. It killed EDI. Almost ninety percent of the systems were offline after the crash, including the drive core and all our communications. We've been working non-stop to get everything running again. We'll be spaceworthy again once that happens." 

I'm silent for a long time. I'm too perplexed and exhausted to even react now. None of them says anything else and they just sit with me while Doctor Chakwas runs a few more tests. 

"What do we need to do to get out of here?" I finally ask. I can only think of one thing - getting a simple yes or no answer to my first question. I have to know what happened to him. I don't care about anything else. It's too complicated and overwhelming to even consider what state the galaxy is in. And without an answer - without _him_ \- it won't ever feel right and good again.

"We've given you a lot to process," Garrus says. "Right now we need you to rest and regain your strength."

"I - " I start to protest but Doctor Chakwas stops me.

"You aren't cleared for active duty, Major Alenko," she says.

"The chain of command means I'm ranking officer on the _Normandy_ ," I argue.

"Not when you're my patient, it doesn’t. My authority supersedes yours, and I'm certainly not clearing you for command," she counters. "Your psychological state is tenuous. You've suffered worse trauma than any of us. Your attachment to the Commander is both wonderful and a hazard at the moment. And I’m sure you recall the conversation the three of us had when you began your relationship with him?"

_Shepard called it a mercy later that night. It took us a long time to stop crying, to stop worrying about the likelihood of this happening and fall asleep._

The fight goes out of me. She's right, of course. "So who's in charge right now, Joker or Vega?"

"Neither," Liara says. "Joker is also in mourning, but Steve is making sure he stays safe. And James insisted it be one of the original crew. So since you were unconscious, we elected Tali on a temporary basis."

"But I insisted that when you were well enough we'd make a more permanent decision with you," Tali says.

I rub my eyes. I’ll break down soon. "You did what you had to do," I say as levelly as I can. "I understand, and I’m not angry. And I formally acknowledge that I’m not emotionally fit for command. Can I still receive a full sit-rep? I need to know what I can do."

"Of course," Tali says. "And Garrus has a plan we'll need your help with when Doctor Chakwas clears you."

"Alright. Thank you." I don't like feeling helpless. I spent too much time helpless and useless in Huerta Memorial after Mars. I missed Palaven and Tuchanka. But they're all right. I don't think I could even get out of bed right now.

"What I want you to do is rest a few more hours and then take a walk around the crew deck with some support," Doctor Chakwas says. "We need you to recover, but under no circumstances are you to push yourself."

I just nod. I feel my self-control crumble even more. And I’m grateful that I’m not in command and don’t have to keep up any pretenses right now. "Will you all give me some time alone, please?"

They each nod and touch me in parting. Garrus pats my shoulder; Tali squeezes my hand; Liara kisses my cheek. It's not something any of us has ever really done before. Part of me feels guilty for sending them away like this. But I also don't want them to see my naked grief. I think about asking Chakwas to leave as well. I don't because I still have questions. 

"Doctor, before I went under, I - I think I remember the med tech saying Admiral Anderson died. Is that true?"

She nods slowly. "Yes, as far as we can tell. The admiral's implant signal showed he was with the Commander when he died."

"So if the signals were still strong, then Shepard - " 

_I can't. No, no, no, we can't - this can't be how it ends._

"Kaidan, he was hurt. I could tell that much from here, but he didn't die before we lost his signal," she says. "That damn private spoke out of turn."

"But he still could have died when the Crucible fired after the signal cut out," I whisper. "And if he was already hurt that badly, do you even think he _could_ have survived? Oh, _God_ , please tell me I didn’t lose him again."

She pauses, breathing deeply, maybe warring with herself over telling me what I want to hear or what she believes is true. "I think that if anyone could have found a way it's him. He would have done everything and beyond his power to come back, if not for his own sake then for yours," she says. "I, for one, have faith in him and won't accept he's gone until we make contact with Alliance command." 

I almost believe her. 

I want to escape her words and those of my friends. I fall forward, drawing my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them. I try to recall the dreams and Shepard, but he's gone beyond my reach now. I can't hold everything back anymore.

My shoulders heave. I don't even make any sound at first. Then my pain and my sorrow and my fury tear out of me in an anguished howl. And I can't stop. The echoes in the sealed medbay are so loud part of me detaches and wonders what could possibly cause someone to make that sound.

Doctor Chakwas sits on the bed next to me and does something she hasn’t done since Alchera. She hugs me. She puts one arm around my shoulders and the other on top of my folded arms. I think I hear her singing, trying to sooth me. She smoothes my hair back, the same way my mom did when I was younger. I turn and fall on my side so my head is on her lap. 

I stay that way, fetal and crying, for a long time. I must have drifted off again because I jolt awake when the medbay door opens. Tali has brought me some soup. She sits in silence with me as I manage to force all of it down.

“Are you feeling any better?” she asks timidly.

“No, not really," I say. I’m drained and numb. But the food does actually help a little. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” she said. “We were so scared for you when they brought you back on board. I can’t imagine what you were going through.”

I don’t have any tears left right now. “This feels worse. At least when we were fighting I knew what I was doing. But now… Tali, what if it was all for nothing?”

“Do you believe it was for nothing?” she asks. “In your heart, do you truly think we lost?”

I consider it. My heart feels unravelled and I try to find the thread of hope that existed before. I’m shocked when I discover it’s still there. “No,” I admit. “I think we might have pulled it off.”

“Good,” she says. “We need that hope to keep us together now. I have the sit-rep, and then there’s this.”

She pulls out a small holoprojector and I take it in my hand. I recognize it. Shepard kept it on his desk. I don’t know if I can face it.

“It’s for me?” I ask. 

Tali shakes her head. “Not entirely, no. It’s his final directive for the ship. But there were also final messages for each of us as well.”

I turn it over in my hands for a moment and activate it. My throat threatens to close up again when I see his face and hear his voice. He’s addressing all of us and trying to make us laugh despite what he was sure would happen. And he lied - he didn’t start doubting our odds after we failed at Thessia. He’d thought that for weeks already, probably since Cerberus attacked the Citadel and we almost killed each other over the Council. He never said it in so many words, but that shook him to his core and he was petrified that the Council species’ infighting would be our downfall. And then there were his dreams. 

_“... the original directive stands: finish the mission, survive. And if we - you - completed that one, then I have a replacement directive: live - and enjoy whatever light there is still left in the galaxy. That’s an order,"_ Shepard’s hologram says. I bite my cheek to keep from crying again. He was always my light, and this is one command I don’t think I’ll be able to follow. He’d be furious with me if I didn’t, though.

The message ends with his trademarked _“I should go,”_ and I laugh once despite myself. I know there’s a personal message waiting for me, but it will have to wait. Maybe for a long time. As much as it hurts, I have to put Shepard out of my mind for now. There’s a job to do.

“We can do the rest later,” Tali offers. “If you need more time, that is.”

I wipe my eyes quickly. “No, let’s talk now. I need something to distract me. What do we need to do?”

Tali activates her omnitool. It takes us over an hour to cover the basics of what needs to be done to get the _Normandy_ off the ground. Then we start talking about the drive core and Garrus’s plan to get it online, and I understand why they needed me. It’s a lot to think about and prepare for. Liara and I will need to practice together, maybe for a few days, since we’ll only have one chance to get it right. If that’s not motivation for me to get moving, nothing is. I get up with Tali’s help and make it a few laps around the mess hall before my legs start shaking and she helps me back to my bed. I sleep for the rest of the evening, eat again, and this time when I get up, I make it to the CIC to walk there for longer with Garrus and Liara and talk power couplings and precision biotics. I’m finally too tired to keep going, and they take me back down to the medbay. I sleep dreamless the entire night.

Whatever meds and stims Doctor Chakwas is giving me, they’re working well. The next morning I’m up and doing a light workout before she gets there to run more tests and breakfast. I wolf down the rations and she leads me through a few basic biotics exercises. I do alright. Not nearly as well as I’d hoped. I get tired hours before I should. I sleep again, walk again, eat again, plan again. This happens the entire next day. And the next. The ship’s been grounded for eight days now, and everyone is starting to feel the strain. So I push myself harder and find that the worst of my exhaustion and pain is ebbing away quickly. I’ll crash after we get the drive core back online and I’ll need to recuperate for a week, but it doesn’t matter. 

Liara and I start training with the mock rig that Garrus, Tali, and the engineering team built for us just inside the main battery. The main guns have basically been torn apart and the room is unrecognizable. The cables for the real, still-unconnected power transfer rig are snaking off of the entire battery and down below through the ducts. It’s all so hazardous and delicate that all non-essential crew are banned from the deck. Adams stands to the side, coordinating fake consoles with Garrus while he counts down our mark. Liara and I Lift our components, and he shouts, “Fire!” 

Amazingly, we actually hit our targets within the painfully miniscule time allotment on the first try. Then we fail forty-nine of the next fifty-eight times. After adjusting our strategy and working out our calls, we hit the time mark fifty percent of the next eighty attempts. We finally call it a night after that because my hands are shaking so bad and tempers are starting to flare. When I sleep, I dream of the power rig and we hook it up over and over again. We resume practicing the next morning on the ninth day after the crash and get our success rate up to seventy-five percent before lunch. We take a break from the main rig for most of the afternoon and practice instead with increasingly smaller cables, power cells, and thermal clips. The change in activity ends up making us much more relaxed, and we accidentally shock James when he tries to brush past our floating thermal clip-cable setup. Liara and I return to the rig again after dinner, and we hit the mark forty-eight out of fifty times before I start shaking again, but less than the last two days. Tali and Adams decide that we may as well go all the way with it tomorrow. I dream of the rig again. The repetition of it would be maddening at any other time.

I wake the next morning feeling almost normal. I’m still a little stiff from the robotic procedures done on my side where the bar pierced my armor. But I’m alive and moving, and for now that’s enough. Doctor Chakwas gives me a once over again and lets me go out to eat with everyone. Liara is barely touching her food, but everyone else is eating fast. I catch up and joke with James a bit. Our spirits are high as Tali leaves for Engineering to work with Daniels and Donnelly for the morning. She and Adams are still in constant communication, though. We run through the rig again and hit the mark forty-nine times out of fifty, ever so slightly better than last night. We take a break for a few minutes to get some water and stretch, and when we return we do another thirty perfectly.

“Alright,” Garrus says, resetting his console. “How are you two feeling about this?”

Liara looks at me and nods. “We’re working well together. I’m not sure how much more we can improve.”

“I agree,” I say. “We’re way up in the high ninetieth percentile, and each miss we’ve had in the last twelve hours has been during our warm ups or from exhaustion at the end of the day. I’m feeling good right now.”

“You’re also running the risk of oversaturation at this point,” Adams says. “Tali and my crew are also confident, and you two are right in your peak. Let’s strike while the iron’s hot.”

They don’t give us time to overthink this. We reset the same way we have been, checking off the list of components and switches that need to be thrown except now we’re looking right into the cannons. The real rig is connected at the core is primed. Liara and I breathe our normal steadying exercise. This is just another round, same as we’ve been doing for three days and in our sleep. The mission is simple: connect the dots. There’s nothing else in my mind except the supercharger and plug.

Adams calls the clear from Engineering and Garrus stands by the cannons’ manual operation console. Liara and I signal ready. After almost three days of practicing, our actions are practically subconscious at this point. Liara’s job is to Lift the cannons’ main power coupling out of its housing while bringing the makeshift drive core cable into position. While she does this I have to disconnect the miswired blocking supercharger from the emergency power system and hold it up, then both of us connect those three pieces at the exact same time to finish the new circuit.

“Ready on my mark,” Garrus says for the several hundredth time. “Counting down - three...”

Liara and I activate our biotics and capture our respective pieces in holding fields.

“... two…” 

We Lift the components up so they’re level.

“... one…”

We move the components to within a literal inch of each other.

“Fire!” 

Liara and I move in perfect unison; Adams hits the haptic buttons on his console; Garrus slams the manual cannon trigger. A massive power spike arcs ever so briefly across the three components and disappears the instant Garrus ‘fires the cannons’ into the core. In that millisecond of time, about seventeen gigawatts of power are transferred over the most haphazardly cobbled together power lines in the history of space flight and our lives are saved.

“Jump start successful!!!” Tali screams over the intercom. We can hear Daniels and Donnelly celebrating in the background. Garrus and Adams are telling us to let go of the now-dead components and are embracing and clapping us on the backs. Liara and I collapse against each other in a hug and our nerves catch up with us. 

The lights get brighter; the familiar hums of air purifiers, water pumps, once-dark consoles return. The _Normandy_ is coming back to life.

“Spot-fucking-on the credits!” Adams whoops. “What the hell are you waiting for, sir?”

I half-gasp, half-yell for Liara and then I'm sprinting from the main battery toward the elevator. I have to get to the comms center. If I could phase through solid matter, I'd have already been there. I get stopped waiting at the elevator and slap the button until the doors open. Liara just catches me with Glyph in tow and we go up to the CIC. Tali is already there with Specialist Traynor working to get the galaxy map and telemetry back online.

"Figure out where we are, Tali!" I shout as we sprint by.

"We should be up and running in just a minute, sir," Specialist Traynor calls back, hands flying over her station’s haptic controls.

Adams's voice comes on over the intercom. "This is an unfriendly reminder from Engineering that the drive core is only operating at thirty percent. So if you're about to turn something on that isn't telemetry or communications, don't touch it or your ass will be left on this planet. Thank you."

Liara and Glyph rush to the QEC while I boot up the war computer. That's her realm as the Shadow Broker. This is mine.

The holographic display flashes three times as it sparks back into existence. The display flashes red to indicate it hasn't connected to the Alliance's battle network or the Extranet yet. It just shows the last information it received - that all Reaper and unified galactic forces converged on Earth along with the Citadel and Crucible. I pull up another screen purely out of habit before I can catch myself. Shepard’s transponder and vitals show no signal. I shake my head at my unwarranted disappointment and frustration.

"Anything yet?" I call out to Liara.

"The QEC is still rebooting, Major," Glyph says. I walk over to them. Liara's fingers fly across several keyboards and displays.

"Before the final battle, we had the capacity to reach over a dozen high command warships and stations," she said. "One of them had to survive."

"Attican Traverse, outside the Shadow Sea cluster," Tali's voice says overhead.

"Are you picking up anything else?" I ask her over an intercom. 

"Not yet. We still haven't gotten a full connection. No real-time tactical data is available," she replies.

"The entire Extranet must be down," Liara says. "We get significant amounts of data from it via secure uplinks, and if the QEC is offline some systems draw from that instead."

"Then we'd better hope one of those almost-a-dozen radios made it," I growl.

"Yes, or we could end up jumping straight into a debris field or something equally destructive," she replies. "And the only way for the Extranet to go down is if the Relays were somehow damaged in the Crucible blast. The QEC connections are literally our only hope of connecting with the outside galaxy, Kaidan."

"Quantum Entanglement Communicator online," Glyph says. "Two channels are available: Moab Station on Earth, and Primarch Victus's capital ship in the Exodus Cluster. Which would you like me to bring up first?"

"Wait, we need everyone down here," Liara says.

"Tali and Garrus to the War Room," I say into the ship's intercom. Liara steps back from the consoles and takes my hand.

"Whatever we learn, we're here for you," she tells me. It's sweet of her considering our sometimes rocky friendship. Tali and Garrus arrive and squeeze into the small QEC room.

"Glyph, connect us with Primarch Victus," I say. My hands are shaking again.

"One moment, please," Glyph says. The QEC lights up and the display shows the signal is being sent. It takes several minutes for the display to show that the signal has been received, and when it does our collective nervous energy ramps up. Despite that, the Primarch doesn't answer. 

"This is the longest it's taken to answer a damn call in the history of the galaxy," Garrus says.

"Glyph, is there a problem?" Tali asks.

"No, ma'am. The QEC signal is perfect and there's no way for it to be disrupted excepting in the case that one of the transmitters is destroyed and - excuse me, the message has been received." 

A hologram of the Primarch appears and each of us leans forward in anticipation.

"By the spirits, it is you," he says. "My apologies for the delay, I thought my subordinate was drunk when he told me the _Normandy_ was calling. We thought you were destroyed. What's your sit-rep?"

Tali answers before I can say anything. "Primarch Victus, the _Normandy_ crashed after our retreat from the Crucible on an unknown planet outside the Shadow Sea cluster. Our drive core and all communications have been down until now. We need to know the status of the war effort."

"That answer is easy," the Primarch says. "From the reports coming in, all Reaper forces have been completely and unequivocally obliterated. We won."

None of us says anything at first.

"Primarch, in case of any comm interference, can you say your last again?" Garrus asks.

"I read you, _Normandy_ , and I'll send along the report we received from Earth," Victus says. "The Reapers are dust. Our homeworlds have been liberated."

"Glyph, go inform Specialist Traynor so she can tell the crew," Liara says. Her eyes shine with tears, and even Garrus fights to hide his own. I can't wait anymore.

"Primarch Victus," I say. "Have you heard anything from Admiral Hackett about Commander Shepard? I'm desper - we need to know if he survived."

"I hear you, Major," he replies. "Our contact with Admiral Hackett has been touch and go. The _Everest_ was heavily damaged and the admiral has taken command of the SSV _Denali_. The Crucible did a number to the Relays and our orderly retreat wasn't so much. The coalition fleet is slowly coalescing back at Earth. My ship is still in the Exodus Cluster assisting our wounded and awaiting clearance to return to the Local Cluster. I’ll pass on your sit-rep, but our communication capabilities are extremely limited at the moment so it will be several hours. I'm sorry I don't have any better news for you."

I try not to fall apart again. We _still_ don't know.

"Excuse me, Primarch, Admiral Tali’Zorah," I say. "I need to sit down for a minute."

"Of course, Major" the Primarch says. I leave the QEC and practically collapse into a chair just outside of its viewing angle. I hang my head and let the tears fall silently. I'm exhausted beyond words from the emotions of the day. I don't return to the conversation, but I listen to them talk for almost an hour. After they sign off, Specialist Traynor and Tali come in with a tray of food for me on Doctor Chakwas's orders.

"Do you need anything, Major?" she asks. I can tell she's trying to hold back her joy to keep from upsetting me.

"A blanket," I say. "If you don't mind. I'm going to stay down here until we hear back from the Primarch or whoever."

"Do you want company?" Tali asks. I shake my head. 

"Thank you, no," I say. They leave me and Traynor returns with my request. I take the tray and blankets into the QEC. I sit down against the wall, wrap the blankets around me, and start my vigil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, look, I don't take any more delight in making Kaidan sad then you do in reading him. I'm assuming, anyway. If that's not the case, then we need to have some words.
> 
> We're inching forward nonetheless, and I'm so grateful to my betas and my readers for going on the ride!


	6. Joker 1 - Dereliction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joker recounts the end of the war from the cockpit. With the remembered weight of Alchera and now Earth crushing him, to say nothing of the pain of losing EDI, he grieves alone while the rest of the crew works to restore the Normandy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Grief and intense emotional distress, no physical harm.

I’ve always liked space because it’s such a stone-cold bastard. 

It seems so serene and peaceful when you’re looking up at it from the safety of a nice, warm planet with a cushy blanket of protection called an atmosphere. But once you’re in it, even just a few kilometers from that blanket, it’s the most brutally honest thing in the galaxy. It wants to kill you. Vacuum. Cosmic radiation. Supernovas. Gamma bursts. Black fucking holes. It has a million ways to snuff you out like a candle, and it’s always honest about its intentions. People, aliens - no one is ever that honest to your face. Space doesn’t scheme; it doesn’t fight for survival; it doesn’t care about the future - it just is. I love being able to fly straight into its face and scream, “Just try and take us down!” And it’s tried. Okay, a lot. More than the rest of the crew needs to know. At the end of the day, when I’m sitting in the cockpit of the _Normandy_ , eye-to-eye with the deadliest thing in the universe, I feel so alive I could sing.

And that’s why I’m pissed off there are goddamn Reapers everywhere ruining the view. 

Plus, you know, they’re stealing space’s job of trying to kill us. 

I’ve never flown better. Not bragging here; it’s just a fact. The _Normandy_ is the best ship in this fight, and I’m the best pilot. All these massive dreadnoughts and capital ships and evil squid robots can’t match us on anything except firepower. Which I’m dodging perfectly, by the way. You’re welcome, everybody. 

“EDI, do you still have a fix on the Commander’s position?” I ask. The Citadel's arms opened just a few minutes ago, but nothing's happening. I swerve us between two crashing turian frigates. I don’t think about the lives lost, just the trajectory of debris and the locations of the fuel cells so I don’t fly us too close when they rupture.

“Yes, Jeff,” she says. “It seems there is a separate command center for the Crucible. He made it."

“Hell, yes, he did!” I shout. I’d pump my fists in the air, but there are three of those piss-shooting Reaper fighters trying to intercept us. I swing us left and then almost straight up. There aren’t really cardinal directions up here, but anyway they miss us and end up smashing into each other trying to correct course. Amateurs. If Shepard’s at the command center, we’re going to win any second. I know it.

It tore me up leaving him alone down in London without support. But we can’t maneuver for shit in atmo, not with half a dozen Reapers breathing down our necks. And that trick EDI pulled on Harbinger was only going to work once. I’m keeping us as close to the Crucible as I can. It’s getting almost impossible. The Reapers keep pushing in, forcing all the capital ships closer together. A little more breathing room would be nice. I’m tempted to just land us on the damn thing itself, but we’ll have to wait since there’s no cover near Shepard’s location. We’d get picked off like a fly on a cake.

_Oh, man, there’s going to be sooo much victory cake when this is over._

Liara comes onto the bridge.

"Kaidan and Garrus?" I ask curtly. There's not time to talk.

"Hurt badly and under sedation for surgery," she says. "And Shepard - "

“Jeff, Harbinger is on an intercept course,” EDI interrupts. “ETA exactly forty-two seconds.”

_Shit._

“EDI, reroute five percent of cannon power to the engines,” I say. "We need to put some distance between us and that asshole and then swing around so we can get our boy back."

“Engines operating at one hundred and five percent,” EDI confirms. “Complete burnout in approximately one hour at this rate.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I say. “We won’t be here that long."

The comms beep. _"Hackett to_ Normandy _, do you read me?"_

"Copy, Admiral," EDI responds.

 _"EDI, the Crucible isn't firing and Commander Shepard isn't responding to our hails,"_ he says. _"Do you have a connection?"_

"Yes, Admiral. The connection is clear, but the Commander is not answering," she responds. We pass under a long shot from Harbinger. "His vitals are critical. I estimate that he has approximately fifteen minutes left before he loses consciousness."

 _"Roger that,_ Normandy _,"_ Hackett says. _“We’ve dispatched SAR teams to try to breach the command unit, but they’re all getting picked off. None of them can get close.”_

“Give the word and we’ll start running interference, Admiral.”

 _“Copy,_ Normandy _. If any of you are the praying type, we need it now. Standby for my orders. Hackett out.”_

“C’mon, Commander,” I say under my breath. “Fire the sonuvabitch and kill the bastards.”

Harbinger blasts an asari frigate apart right in front of us and we’re forced away from the Crucible.

“SHIT!” I yell. The Reapers are breaching what little perimeter our fleets made. It has to be now. I think Liara's leaving. I can't waste the time to turn to see.

"Jeff, general systems alert!" EDI shouts, or as close as she gets to shouting. Pretty much every light across the board hits yellow in a snap. "The Crucible is primed and ready to fire!"

I whoop once as I bring the _Normandy_ around to make our last run to the Crucible. "Engines to one-twenty!"

_We're coming, Commander!_

_"All fleets, the Crucible is armed. Fall back through Charon, triple time,"_ Admiral Hackett orders.

I ignore the order. I can see a cloud of bright red energy gathering at the center of the Citadel where the Crucible docked. We're less than thirty seconds out. Hackett repeats the order, and I mute the channel.

"Jeff, the energy readings are overloading our sensors," EDI warns.

"We can make it."

"They are increasing exponentially," she counters. "Any ship near the Crucible will almost certainly suffer fatal damage."

_No..._

We're twenty seconds out. I run the calculation in my head. "It still needs time to cycle up. We can make it!" I'm lying to myself.

"The Crucible will fire in thirty seconds. We cannot rescue Commander Shepard and escape," she says. "We will all die, Jeff."

I can't believe how close we are. If I flared us right now we'd be close enough to dock in ten seconds. And that window is disappearing. Then every alarm hits red. EDI knows, the ship knows that our chance has disappeared.

I feel Liara's hand on my shoulder. I try to shake her off. "Joker, listen. We have to go."

"Dammit." My hands drop for a second. I can't take my eyes off of the Crucible. If Harbinger hadn't gotten in our way again... 

No time. The warnings are more urgent and my training kicks back in. I shoot us past the Crucible and we're on our way to the Relay. I hate myself for it.

"The Crucible is firing," EDI says. We wouldn't have made it. We're barely ahead of the blast.

"Take us to one-thirty, EDI," I say. We approach Charon faster than I ever have before. With all the ships pouring through it, I hope it can cycle fast enough to launch us because we can't slow down. The blast is gaining impossibly fast.

"Jeff, something is wrong," EDI says and falls silent the way she does when she needs to devote every spare ounce of computing power to something big. I glance at her as the mass effect field forms around us and prepares to fling us out of the system. Everything flashes blue as we tear out of there. We pass our timestamp for dropping out in the Exodus Cluster. She’s taking us somewhere else.

"EDI, talk to me!" I shout. We're re-entering real space in five seconds and I have no idea what our vector is when we exit. "EDI?!"

We blast out of the mass field maintaining our insane velocity, and all the sensors hit black.

"What the hell, it's not possible!" I scream. Whatever the Crucible shot followed through the Relay and now it's massive. Like, whole clusters massive.

"Jeff, continue on bearing one-one-three-eight heading two-one-eight-seven. You'll be safe."

"EDI, what - "

The blast catches us. But it's not a normal energy impact. I look back and see it visibly passing through the entire ship. And then it reaches the cockpit. Red sparks erupt up and down EDI's body and she slumps over. Some noise I've never made before escapes me, something made of a growl and a cry.

The blast passes far ahead of us. I kill our speed because there's a planet directly in our path. We go from the better part of one point five light to point five in less than thirty seconds. The hull creaks from the strain, but we were built for this speed and these dynamics. The core is losing power fast and systems start entering their emergency modes to keep from dying permanently. I'm barely able to slow us enough before we hit the unknown planet's atmo. The controls are shit and my only maneuvering option is hoping I don't ram us straight into a mountain.

"All hands, brace for impact!" I yell just ten seconds before we hit. The core finally shuts down completely and the engines die. It's the only reason we'll survive the crash landing. Fortunately, my chair’s mini-mass field activates right before we hit so I don't turn into a pile of pudding wearing my uniform and hat. 

__________

My eyes shoot open and I pound my leg in frustration. As much as I’ve been trying, I still can’t remember the exact second we hit or even the minutes after as we all checked on each other. I've blocked out the memory of looking over and seeing EDI dead. Someone helped me bring her back to the AI core - I don't remember who - and I'm still here. 

My omnitool says it's been two days since we crashed. Steve and Chakwas came in to check on me, and it wasn’t a long conversation. I made it clear that I’m psychologically and emotionally compromised. So I ordered Steve to relieve me of head pilot duties, told him to keep me updated, and asked them to leave. Neither of them put up any fight other than Chakwas reminding me to check in with her so she knew I was still alive. Since then I've only opened the door once in the middle of the night to go and get some food. I almost stepped on the box of emergency rations someone left me. The only person I saw was Kaidan looking like shit on one of the recovery tables. I couldn’t stand looking at him, knowing that I’d pulled another fucking Alchera on him. On Shepard. So I picked up the rations and closed the door behind me.

But now I can hear all of them talking, planning how to get us up and running again. I should join them. I should care, but I don't. The ship is dead. And this is so much worse than when the Collectors blew up the first one because the SR-2 is whole but empty. EDI had become the mind and heart of the ship. Now it's a husk. I shudder at the word. Corpse is better; not one of those hideous monsters. I fall back asleep next to her.

I spend the next few days thinking or sleeping. Thinking of how I could have gotten Shepard out of there; thinking of how we could have escaped the blast; thinking of how we could rebuild her. My nostrils tell me it's bullshit. The room still reeks of the ozone smell of fried circuitry. And when the thinking gets too confused and painful, I sleep. Round and round. Hours don't mean much to me, but the weight of each day falls harder.

I'm startled awake on the fifth day. Someone in the med bay is screaming. Hurt. No, grieving. _Kaidan_. I cover my ears and squeeze my eyes shut, but that doesn't help. I can't block out his pain. There's only one thing that could make him cry like that. And it was my fault. My fault. I couldn't get us to Shepard in time. I killed him again. My fucking fault. How can I face him? Any of them?

Chakwas comes in to check on me again. And by check on me, I mean she gives me the briefest psych eval ever and then yells at me about dereliction of duty. This looks bad. I know it does. I know they need my help. She picked her timing well; I have to give her that. I consent to meet with her once a day from now on and tell her to let Steve in so I can help check our status. He comes by a few times over the next four days, showing me Garrus and Adams’s plans to jump the core. I feel like such a bastard for not helping. I promise her - and myself - that when they get the core running again then that's when I'll get my ass online, too. There’s really not much I can do until that happens, and Steve doesn’t push me. Still, I only leave at night to hit the bathroom and galley to make sure no one sees me. Kaidan’s at least out of the medbay now so I’m relieved he’s at least on his feet. On my last excursion, I can’t help but marvel at the organized chaos that’s taken over Crew. Looks like Garrus’s plan to restart the core is happening. And soon. 

_Alright_. _That gives me a time limit for wallowing._

Turns out that wallowing time is a helluva lot shorter than I expected. It ends only a few hours later. I can tell everyone is busier than normal, but I can't make out anything they're saying. There's a pause in everything for a few minutes, and my gut tells me it's about to happen. Sure enough, there's a slight familiar shudder under my feet and then I hear cheering outside. After living in virtual darkness for more than a week, having real light flooding the room makes me cower like a cockroach. I look over at EDI, hoping against all logic that maybe what happened to her was because the core went down. But the panels stay dark and she doesn't move. I struggle to my feet when I hear voices approaching.

" - go easy on him."

"Look, if we need a hardass to get him going, the only person better than me would be Wrex," Garrus says.

"He lost someone, too, Scars." James. They open the door and find me ready to meet them, but I can barely look them in the eye.

"Hey, guys," I say like a complete idiot. I don't know what else to say.

"Get your ass up, Joker, and help us finish the sit-rep," Garrus says. Unceremonious. Guess I deserve it.

"Shit, Garrus, your arm - " I say.

"Yeah, a lot's been happening while you’ve been in here," he says. "Let's go."

"Give him a second, Scars. How are you holdin' up, Wings?" James asks me.

"Huh, let's see," I start. "EDI's dead because I didn't expect the blast to come through the Relay and I crashed us wherever the hell we are, and, uh, oh yeah, I got the Commander killed because I didn't get to him fast enough. How would you be feeling if you were responsible for all that?"

"Easy, Wings," he says. "You did save the rest of us. That's something. And the ship's up and running again."

"Yeah, no thanks to me."

"Indeed," Garrus says. "If you can't pull it together now, we'll get someone else to fly the ship. Can you handle your responsibilities, pilot?"

"Yeah, Garrus, I - "

"Then get up to the CIC and the helm. We have a lot of work to do," Garrus says. "Traynor will fill you in on the rest."

He basically pushes me to the elevator and then turns back toward the main battery. James and I go upstairs and find the deck crew half working their stations and half crowding the doorway to the war room. Traynor sees me and brings me over to the galaxy map and Tali. 

"Good to see you out and around, Joker," Traynor says. “You look - well.”

"Thanks, I guess," I say. James is staying within arm's reach and I raise my eyebrows. "You my brig officer for the day, Vega? Making sure I don't go anywhere?"

"Those might be my orders, Wings. Not that I don't trust you, but - "

"Talk and work," Tali interrupts. "We're rebooting telemetry while Kaidan and Liara work the comms. We need to know where we are when they contact whoever they can reach. Joker - it’s good to see you - we’ll check in later - come over here, please."

"We need you to enter your security credentials," Traynor says quickly.

"Why didn't Kaidan just do it?" I ask as I type.

"The command crew elected me temporary leader while he was in recovery," Tali says as she moves me to the side. "We couldn't convince the computer that I wasn't staging a hostile takeover without E - I'm sorry." 

"It's alright," I lie. "Anyway, she'd never have let you hear the end of pirate jokes."

The galaxy map appears out of thin air and Tali and I step up to read it. The computer is taking a damn long time to get a fix on our position. The galaxy-wide navcomm networks must be in real shit shape, too. Finally the green outline of the _Normandy_ starts flashing. Attican Traverse near the Shadow Sea. Middle of nowhere but not all that far from home, so to speak. Tali steps down and relays the information and I suddenly have to grip the rails to stay up.

A message has appeared next to our location. "This was the only gift I could give you, Jeff. I'm sorry." 

_EDI._ She programmed this. When? I mean, her mind literally works at the speed of light and she knew something was wrong even before we jumped. Whatever she knew she didn't have time to tell me then, but she still dedicated processing power to this. After the jump, she said we'd be safe. And this - this might be her last message.

"Joker," Traynor says softly. "I can capture this. I don't know if it will disappear or not."

"Thanks, Sam." It's all I can manage. Kaidan calls for Tali and Garrus over the intercom and she leaves.

"Chess, you should tell him what we know," Vega says.

"Joker," Traynor says. "I want to be honest with you without getting your hopes up. We don't know for sure that Commander Shepard died."

I spin to look at her. "You're shitting me." 

She shakes her head. "No. We've been out of contact with Alliance command since we left Sol, so we have no idea what happened to him." 

"And from what Doc and Scars have said, Loco's vitals were still hot when we lost comms," Vega says. "It's not much, maybe, but if anyone can pull off coming back from the dead twice, it's the Commander. Or is it three times?"

I'm stunned. But it could make sense. If the blast didn't do anything to us organics when it hit, then maybe, _maybe_ he could've gotten out. Maybe I didn't get him killed.

"That's a lot to hope for," I say. They don't respond. "James, help me up to the helm."

I amble my way there with his help. It feels so empty without her. I close the outer viewscreens to block out the tropical landscape. At least with them closed and the steady hum of the drive core I can at least pretend like we're in space. James hovers behind me as I start checking instruments.

"James, sit down," I say. I can't stand having him over my shoulder.

"Uh, you sure, Wings?" he says. "I feel like I'm taking her place and I'm not good with the tech stuff."

"I don't need a copilot and I don't need a tech," I say. "I need someone to sit there, make noise, talk to me. Tell me stories or something so I can ignore you and focus on getting the _Normandy_ up to speed."

"Aw, thanks, Wings. That makes a guy feel real special. What do you want me to talk about?"

"Hell, I don't know,” I say. “Start with your first day of basic training.”

He obliges. "Sure, we can talk about that. Oh, first I need to tell you about the asshole recruiting officer who told me I was too lean for an infantryman. Ha! It took months of working out to get him - " 

It takes a while for me to tune him out and get the diagnostics running. Adams has already upped core output by five percent. I tell him to creep it up to forty in the next half hour to keep it more stable and then to level off a bit. James only stops briefly when Traynor announces over the intercom that the Reapers are gone and we won. He tries to clap me on the shoulder and I think I bruise a rib dodging his krogan sized hands. No one comes to get us from the War Room. I should be offended. Whenever Shepard got off a call or meeting in there between missions I was always his first stop when he made his crew rounds. Wait, what if all of them thought they were always first? Made me feel special, anyway.

The ship's not doing too bad, all things considered. No hull breaches, engines are cold but initial readings show we didn't burn any of them out. Those were my biggest concerns. James has barely finished talking about his advanced infantry training when Traynor comes up to us again.

"Hey, Chess. Taking a break or what?" James stops. I turn to look back at her. She's holding a thin metal memorial plaque in her hands. It has Shepard's name on it. 

"No," I growl. 

_I can't lose him, I just can't._

"No, Joker, it's not that. We still haven't heard anything definitive. We were able to contact Primarch Victus about an hour ago. The fleets are in disarray, trying to regroup. He's passing on a message to Admiral Hackett, but it's taking a long time to relay information," she says in hushed tones. She doesn't want any of the crew to hear.

"So, there's _still_ nothing on Shepard?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "No. Major Alenko is still waiting in the QEC, and I definitely don't want to bother him with this. I found it in the Commander's quarters. I think he made it himself so we wouldn't have to."

"Damn, Loco, that's dark," James mutters.

"Here, I'll take it," I say. She hands it to me and I slide it down under my feet. "I heard Kaidan when he woke up the other day. He doesn't need to see this."

"Thank you," she says. "And I'm so sorry about EDI. I - I've put in a requisition for a plaque for her, but the fabricator is offline until we have full power."

I just nod. "Thanks, Sam. Really, I appreciate it. How's the rest of the crew doing?"

"Everyone is settling down for the evening. We've done everything we can with the power available to us. And everyone's waiting to hear from Admiral Hackett. What about you?" 

I flip a few switches and lean back. "Same up here. My next testing threshold is sixty percent, so it'll be a while."

"Good on you, Wings," Vega says. He's practically dancing in his seat.

"Hey, I think I'm going to stay up here awhile," I say. "Go through a few things, maybe catch some z's. I'll catch up with you later."

"Of course," Traynor says. "I'll have someone bring you some real food."

"Cake, if you have it," I say, more to myself. 

"I'm not sure that we do," she says uncertainly.

"Just a joke. See you later." 

They leave me and I signal for the rest of the deck crew that we're done for the day. The CIC empties and I'm alone. The quiet is nice. I reach down into a small storage compartment and pull out a bottle. It's a 60-year Scottish whisky I bought on shore leave. I was tempted to open it a few times those last days before the battle, one last drink and all that. But I saved it hoping Shepard and I could get absolutely wasted and toast the ship and the people that brought us victory. I don't think we'll ever get to do that, so I open it and take three small drinks. One for him, one for the best damn ship in the galaxy, and one for EDI. I put the bottle back and sit thinking for a long time before nodding off.

A gentle hand shakes me awake. It's Traynor.

_Shit, what now?_

"Hey, did I sleep through the night?" I ask, confused. 

"No, it's about 0200," she says. Her voice is tight. "We're receiving a transmission from Admiral Hackett. I didn't think Kaidan should be alone, so the rest of the command crew is on their way up." 

That certainly gets my attention. "Uh, yeah, let's go. Thanks for getting me."

She helps me up and we walk to the war room as fast as I can. Whoever put all these damn steps in here was an asshole. I can hear Kaidan already talking to the Admiral and they sound alright. Military formal. Kaidan hears us enter and looks over. I can't read his face in the bad light, but he nods once to say that we're good to stay.

"So, that's our sit-rep, Admiral," Kaidan says. "If the Relays are that badly damaged right now, it'll take us a while to get back to you."

 _"I've got a team plotting courses for you as we speak,"_ Hackett says. _"Don't worry, Commander. We'll get you home."_

_Ships have to have commanders. Geez, how long have I been a flight lieutenant?_

"Thank you, sir," Kaidan says. Oh, man, he's fighting hard to keep from breaking rank and protocol with our top top CO.

 _"Enough about the fleets,"_ Hackett says. _"I know what you're really needing to know, so there's no point in delaying it and no easy way to say it, son."_

The resolution of the hologram is terrible, but I swear Hackett's crying. The image wavers and fades. Wait, or did he just step aside?

"Admiral?" Kaidan shouts and leans forward to check the system. "Admiral, do you copy?"

He falls back a step in shock. The image resolves itself, but it's not Hackett. 

"Shepard?" 

He's in a wheelchair. Half his body's in casts and it looks like his hair's gone. Ok, honestly, he looks like he got shat out by a krogan and then trampled by an elcor. But fuck me, the bastard's alive. The sonuvabitch made it. And he's smiling. Well, the side not covered in bandages.

_"Hey, Kaidan."_

I guess we won't need that memorial plaque.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, if I thought writing sad Kaidan was rough, I had *no* idea how hard it would be to write one of my favorite comedic characters ever having to deal with this kind of loss. I won't lie, he's going to have a rough go of it from here on out.
> 
> And sorry about the cliffhanger. Blame my muse; he's an asshole.


	7. Shepard 1 - Ghost of the Machine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard is alive. His fight isn't over. He faces his enemy again, and he learns the cost of his victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Brief mention of self-harm, lots of intense emotional distress; references to minor character deaths, *NO* major character deaths.

[ _Ghost of the Machine_ ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/thepixelagora)

As I lay dying, I know I’m dreaming. The same dreams I’d had for months after leaving Earth. The same forest. The same fog. The same voices. The same boy. The same monsters. My enemies.

I run endlessly.

There is no destination. No time. No arriving. No stopping unless I’ve lost sight of the boy whose name I don't know; the boy I failed to save in some city I’ve forgotten.

There is no remembering.

I have no name. No personhood. No individuality. Nothing that makes me me.

There is no waking. There is no victory.

I am alone.

The boy runs ahead of me, always just out of reach. There are shadows, figures moving between the trees. I don't know them either. I try to find words to ask for help. For anything. I can't speak. The boy pauses and I lunge for him. He reappears off to my right, hiding behind a bench. No, a table. And two chairs. I brush against one as I go around to the boy. It's solid in a world of smoke.

A voice speaks out of the ether. "You'll find a way to win."

A red light shines down on me and there's this _noise_. It sounds like death. I cower before it. It's after me. The voice speaks again.

"You'll find a way to win. I know it. And when you do, I'll be waiting."

The death-noise sounds again. Louder. I run from it. Away from the table and the boy and the waiting voice. The shadows start whispering, but their words are jumbled together and I can't understand them. The boy appears again in front of me but isn't running. He’s staring up at me. I turn from him and see the same table and chairs. I reach out for it and the voice speaks again.

"Don't leave me behind."

The table and chairs start to burn. I've seen that happen here - seen it happen to the boy and to me. But this time I'm holding onto it and I actually feel the heat. I jerk my hand away and the world changes around me.

I take what feels like the very first breath of my entire life.

I'm not in the forest. I'm not surrounded by fog and shadows but by smoke and rubble. My hand was trapped under a piece of glowing metal. The pain of it woke me. But my whole body is pain. A light crosses overhead, not red but white. From outside. Halting - searching. It takes every ounce of will and strength I have to raise my hand. The light catches it and stays fixed on it until my arm drops and I'm pulled back into the dream.

The death-noise greets me,even louder than before. Closer. I'm bathed in red light. Something nameless stirs in me. Fear. The death-noise, the light - these are my enemies. I can't let them catch me. I run. I’m slower than before. They feel closer.

I have the briefest flashes beyond the dream. Sparks flying in from where the light was. Cautious footsteps echoing among the debris.

_~ “Asset located, we’ve got him.” ~_

The death-noise coming from inside my skull. I can't keep it out. I see the boy near a table and chairs again. I run to them but ignore him. This time there's a shadow seated at one of the chairs.

"You know my life flashed in front of my eyes on Mars, that there weren't enough moments like this with people I care about."

The shadow materializes. I've seen his face. His dark hair and brown eyes that sparkle with fire but are soft around the edges. And his smile, gentle and mischievous and confident, pulled to one side. I feel strength rise in me that's not my own. I'd give anything for his name. Something to hold on to. I reach for his hand and fire rises between us.

_**“STOP!”**_ the boy shouts. His voice is that of thousands and eons. The death-light and death-noise rise again. I run. They follow.

Another flash from outside. The smoke and debris are gone. There are hands on me and faces going in and out of view. I can't move or speak. I don't understand why they won't let me die.

_~ "I have a pulse again." ~_

Mine? How? My body is broken, torn apart. My mind is not my own. My eyes close.

The forest again. The shadows are darker, more hostile. The boy runs toward me and I flee. The shadows whisper louder. Calling me to join them. I won't. I see the table again and the man sitting there.

"It's just, you plan a career, you focus, and then suddenly the world's ending and it's too late to, uh, find someone." I'm further away from the table this time, but I hear his voice stronger and closer to my heart. Me? Does he mean me? I still can't speak. But I did. Whenever it was that we had this conversation. What the hell did I say?

I get to the table and he's not there. I spin around trying to find him. I see the boy walking toward me, stalking me. Growing larger. The man's voice speaks through the fog.

"I was lost without you." It's coming from the opposite direction of the boy. I run again. I'm yanked out of the dream again and I scream in frustration. That man is my salvation. Just let me go.

I see more flashes of what’s happening around me. Faces I don’t know. Words I hardly understand. _Reapers. Surgery. Victory. Radiation. The Jane Wright. Hackett. Indoctrination. Shepard._

Shepard - my name.

Then I’m back in the forest again with only my name. Something that’s mine. Something to fight for. And that man’s face that I recognized. I still don’t know his name, but I remember his smile. So I stop chasing the boy and start running toward that man. It makes the boy and the monsters angry. No, not monsters. The Reapers. My enemies. I have my name and theirs.

Another flash. Anxious faces above me, blocking out harsh lights. If I can reach up, reach them, I can go...

_~ “ - me? It’s Hackett. There, that’s good, son. Keep fighting. Don’t let them win. We still need you, Shepard.” ~_

The boy tries to catch me, but I'm getting faster now. The death-noise is less frightening. I think I've heard it and survived it before.

_**“SUBMIT!!!”**_ that infinite voice demands. _**“YOU HAVE NOTHING TO LIVE FOR. YOUR WORLDS BURN. YOUR FRIENDS ARE DEAD.”**_

"No!" I finally find my voice. The boy is a liar. No, not a boy, not the one I couldn't save; one of them. Reaper. The Catalyst. Now I have his name, too.

"Help me!" I scream into the shadows.

"Here, Shepard, I'm here." The man appears next to me. "You said once that we've been through some crazy times. You know what, though? I feel good about our chances."

"And you said you'd wait for me," I say. The Catalyst towers over me, still drawing closer.

"Heh, yeah, that's right but that was later," he laughs. "Think. We were having lunch - our first real lunch together on the Citadel after all that time."

"After all that - Kaidan!" I say. The death-sounds and death-lights explode around me. I cover my face. Kaidan gently takes my hands and pulls them away.

"That's right, Shepard. Come on, you can do this," he says. "Remember what you asked me next."

The Catalyst is growing, fighting harder. The death-noise doesn't stop. I tear my glance from him and look into Kaidan's eyes. "I asked what you wanted."

"Good. And I said, 'What I want is something deeper with someone I already care about. That's what I want. What do you want?'"

And I remember. I remember everything. Every hour, every second we spent together after that lunch and every word we spoke. Every touch, every kiss, every single glorious moment of the passion and love we shared.

Someone to turn to when things get grim. Someone to live for; maybe love. That's what I said. And I did, I _do_ love him. And things couldn't get any grimmer than this.

"You, Kaidan. It does, it does feel right after all this time. You and me. I like that. A lot," I say. "That's what I told you, and I'd never meant anything more than that in my life."

Kaidan smiles. "And that makes me so happy. Look at yourself, Shepard.”

I glance down and see myself. My armor is whole, gleaming even in the murk, shining ebony emblazoned with scarlett and silvery white. I am strength. And I am armed.

“You’ve already won,” Kaidan tells me. “Now make an end, once and for all."

He kisses me and steps aside. And that's when I turn and fight the Catalyst.

"You've lost, you motherfucker."

_**“INSIGNIFICANT SPECK OF EVOLUTIONARY ABERRATION. WE ARE INEVITABLE.”** _

I nod. “From the moment I touched the Beacon, yes. It was always going to end like this.”

Hideous, clawed shapes rise higher, circling around and waiting to devour my corpse. I ignore them and focus on the boy’s image.

“You called that one thing right, I’ll give you that. But everything else - our downfall, our extinction - I stopped you.”

Even as the death-noise sounds again, I stand firm and unmoving. And the Catalyst shrinks as it steps toward me again.

_**“A WORTHLESS SACRIFICE, DEVOID OF ALL MEANING AND HONOR. YOUR MEMORY WILL FADE, A MOTE OF DUST IN AN INFINITE COSMOS.”** _

“Good. If that’s all it took to bring down your kind, then you’re not nearly as powerful as you believe yourself to be.”

The trees around be blast apart as the ground buckles from the sound of destruction. But my feet don’t move. Now the Catalyst - barely a head taller than me - is almost within reach.

**_“UNKNOWING ARROGANCE. YOU CHOSE DESTRUCTION!”_ **

"I chose life for my friends and for the entire galaxy and for myself, and you won't take that from me!"

_**“WE ARE ETERNAL!!! WE ARE YOUR SALVATION!!!”** _

I shake my head. "No. This is our eternal salvation."

I pull my pistol and empty the clip into the Catalyst. The boy who is Sovereign and Harbinger and all the rest screams and jerks backward with each shot and falls into fog. The death-noise and death-lights crescendo then disappear. I breathe deep, confident in the knowledge that this only worked now that I'd regained my self. I throw the pistol aside and the forest starts to melt away.

"I'm so proud of you, Shepard," Kaidan says. "And I keep my promises. I'll be waiting."

He disappears last and the dream ends as I float off into nothing. It's peaceful, the drifting. I've been a soldier for a long time. I've never known calm like this. No more struggle. No constant stiffness and aching. No next mission to plan. No more lives to worry about protecting or losing. I smile and let the newfound feeling of perfect content carry me off into the stars.

I wake in a galaxy thrown into chaos.

* * *

I open my eyes, but half the world is dark. I reach up and feel a bandage over half of my face and my skull. I groan from the effort. The pain is good. Dead men don't feel pain, and clearly someone has been fixing me. So, like any good soldier, I take an inventory of my injuries. Probable skull fracture. Not sure if my right eye made it out. Right forearm in a cast. Not terrible. Left arm feels tight from new skin grafts. Been there before; not too bad either. Legs are stiff but no casts and I can see my toes wiggling under the sheet. Good, no spinal injuries. Internally I can only guess. Nauseous definitely, no appetite, breathing is a little labored, heartbeat is slow for my resting pace. As for the rest, I’m hot but nothing feels scrambled. I remember the feeling of rupturing my spleen on the suicide run to the Collector base. Chakwas was _not_ happy about that.

Chakwas... _Kaidan_. This isn't our med bay. I'm not on the _Normandy_. Still an Alliance vessel. Which one though? Did the _Normandy_ make it? I turn my head slowly, still too fast to keep the dizziness off, looking for a call button. I find it and press it.

It takes all of three seconds before I hear multiple footsteps running down the outside corridor. The door opens and five doctors come in, an asari, a salarian, and three humans. They spread around me and the asari sits on my left so I can see her without turning.

"Commander Shepard, my name is Doctor Yaara T'Miri," she says. "Can you hear me?"

Her voice is faint. My eardrums must have ruptured at some point. "Ba - barely," I croak. My voice sounds worse than a krogan with laryngitis.

"That's alright. Your hearing was damaged, but we're growing new cochlear bones and cells to replace the damaged ones," she says. "How do you feel?"

"Really - really fucking tired," I say, and their relieved laughter is like music. "Sore. Hot, like a - ” I cough and it feels like my entire chest lights on fire. “- like a broiled Thessian lobster. So overall, not too bad."

That makes them laugh again, even the salarian. They each look ready to cry. Or they're about to ask for my autograph. Hell, they can all work on the _Normandy_ after putting me back together.

"Which - sorry - which ship am I on?"

"This is the SSV _Denali_ , Commander," one of the human doctors says. "Admiral Hackett's temporary command ship. And we’re still home in Sol."

"I need to speak with him," I say. Doctor T'Miri steps to an intercom and I cough hard again. The salarian reaches towards me.

"Commander, let's sit you up," she says. "You may still have some residual liquid in your lungs. Here, will be easier to breathe and speak this way. Doctor Hirik Taejor, by the way."

It takes three of them to operate the bed and help me sit up without passing out. Doctor Taejor holds an oxygen mask up to my mouth for a few minutes until I nod and reach up for it.

"Thank you, Doctor. All of you."

"Oh, not just us. Team of twenty," Doctor Taejor says. "Your injuries are extensive. Sure you noticed. Full report will take - "

"Doctor Taejor, the Admiral's orders?" another one of the humans says.

"Yes, yes," she responds. I smile a little. I've heard that salarian exasperation. "Admiral Hackett’s instructions clear. Wanted to be here when you woke up and feel ready to talk more. Moral support and such."

"Commander, I need to run some body scans while we wait," Doctor T'Miri says.

I nod and let my head fall back. The room is spinning even from that short amount of time talking. I lie there and let them pull the blankets down. It doesn't do anything to cool me off. T'Miri, Taejor, and two of the humans run their medical omnitools up and down my body while the third human collates their scans. I can tell from their reactions that they don't like what they see. Another wave of nausea washes over me and something clicks in my brain. Feeling hot inside. The nausea. One word from the flashes of waking puts it all together.

Radiation.

_Fuck_.

I shouldn't be worried. Cancer is a twenty-first century disease. A relic, something humanity largely wiped out a hundred years ago and the asari almost a thousand before that. But I feel dirty. Like I'm poisoning everyone around me. Whether it's a result of whatever the Crucible did to destroy the Reapers or a final attack of revenge from the Catalyst doesn't matter.

"How bad is it?" I ask. The doctors all look at each other before T'Miri answers.

“You’re suffering from strong radiation poisoning, and you’re at high risk of cell mutation.”

“Where?”

"Pretty much everywhere, Commander."

"Terminal?"

"Terminal? Yes, in any other patient," Taejor says. "Not to worry, nothing we can't fix. Your Cerberus - er - enhancements bolstering your immune system, keeping it stronger than baseline human levels. And I’m pleased to tell you most organs yielded healthy cells. Cloning replacements as we speak. And donors lined up for half a kilometer."

"Doctor Taejor!" T'Miri says. "Enough."

"No, Doctor, that's alright. I'd rather know everything now." I'm overwhelmed by the number of people who would give part of themselves for me. I also wonder how many died in the last battle to get me to the Crucible. No, there's time for guilt and introspection later. Right now I'm just glad to be alive, however tenuous my grasp on life might be.

Admiral Hackett arrives just as they finish conferring together. I do my best to raise myself up and bring my broken arm up in a proper salute.

"At ease, son," Hackett says as he gently stops me. "If anything, I should be saluting you first."

"No need for that, Admiral," I smile back.

"Alright, before we get into anything else, what do you need to know first?"

"We won?" It's more a statement than a question, but I still need the reassurance.

Hackett smirks and nods. "Every last one of those bastards fried in the blast. Yes, we won. Thanks to you."

"And the _Normandy_?" I ask. "Kaidan Alenko? My team?"

Hackett sighs. "Some of your people are on Earth. I’ll get you in touch with anyone I can. As for Alenko, he and the _Normandy_ are listed MIA. We lost contact with them after the fallback. We know they made it through Charon ahead of the blast, but they missed the rendezvous. We've got teams out looking for them now along their last known vector. I'm sorry, son, it's going to take some time. The entire Relay network went down; the Crucible blast did a number on them. But we’ve got Charon and Exodus repaired, so they’ve got a way home.”

I don't trust myself to speak at first. Kaidan. Oh, _Kaidan_ , he was hurt. And Garrus. If I made it and they didn’t, I’ll never forgive myself. And what really scares me is that I know all of them so well. Joker would have tried to come back for me. If the _Normandy_ did get out of the Local Cluster, someone else may have had to force him out of the helm. I know well how high emotions can run in moments like that, so I desperately hope no one got hurt or -

There's a flash. And I see the Catalyst laughing at me, like he knows something I don't.

"Commander?" I'm jerked back into the room. Hackett is gently shaking my shoulder and the doctors try to hide their alarm as they reattach my oxygen mask and hook up new IV lines. I - something is still wrong but I can't explain it. I breathe deeply and try to stop the room from going dark. I nod when I'm ready for them to take it off.

"I'm sorry, Admiral, I - think everything's a little - scrambled still. It's all pretty overwhelming, sir."

"Admiral Anderson warned me you have a tendency to state the underwhelming when it's about yourself," he says. "You need to rest, son, so forget about the fight for a while. You were out for, well, how long doctors? I've lost track of the days."

"Five days since the blast and the Commander's rescue," Doctor T'Miri says.

Hackett shakes his head a little. "I'm sure you can imagine how chaotic things are, Commander. But you don't need to worry about any of that right now. Your new standing directive is to recover and await further orders. Put as much of the war out of your head as possible. Get better for all of us, but most of all for yourself. You deserve a decade of R&R. I'll come back later to check in on your progress."

"I might just hold you to that decade, Admiral," I smile. I'm starting to fall asleep again. It scares me what dreams I might find there, but for the first time in months I know waking will bring relief instead of more dread.

"Rest easy, son," Hackett says. I can't even raise my hand to signal I acknowledge him. I sort of nod and then I'm fading again. He stands and turns to the med team.

"Doctors, when you're ready, let's get the full team together and discuss next steps. I'll be waiting in our briefing room." He glances down at me before turning, and I see concern written all over his face. I'm right. Something else _is_ wrong. I fight, trying to keep Kaidan in the forefront of my thoughts. But then my mind goes blank and I lose consciousness.

I’m visited by more ghosts. The forest is gone. I’m wandering the corridors of a ship. It looks like any of the hundreds I’ve been on, grey, nondescript, uniform. But not the _Normandy_. Shadows rush past me or in front of me from one door to another. I scream when the bulkheads shake.

_**“YOU CANNOT HIDE.”** _

“I killed you!” I snarl as I run. The shadows rush at me and I cover my head as they pass. I can’t fight them off. They swirl around and through me. Each of them is a failure, a bad-call, a death on my hands. Even moments from years past before I even knew of the Reapers. The fear paralyzes me to the spot.

_**“SUBMIT AND BE RELEASED.”** _

“I won’t!!!” I scream back and then whisper. “Kaidan, help me, somebody _help me_ …”

The Catlyst’s assault on my mind is overwhelming me. Kaidan doesn’t appear this time.

_**“LET ME ASSUME CONTROL!”** _

“Kaidan! Kaidan, where are you?” I cry, my voice growing hoarse.

This time someone else answers.

“Shepard Commander.”

A gap in the shadows appears and a brilliant figure emerges. An enemy. No, a former enemy who became a friend. “Legion?”

“It appears your hypothesis was correct, Shepard Commander,” he says. “This unit does have a soul. Come with me.”

He extends his arm. Rather than the armor and reinforced data-servo cable that I remember making up his body, he’s made of brilliant blue lines of trinary code. His hand doesn’t look solid, but still I don’t hesitate to take it. When I do, I feel new energy flowing through me and the shadows break apart into tiny cubes of data. My head clears and the Catalyst disappears, but I don’t think he’s gone.

“Where are we?” I ask him.

“Unknown,” he responds. “The logical assumption is that this is a visual representation of your mind, Shepard Commander. Your data matrix, if you wish to call it that.”

“I think that makes a lot of sense, Legion.”

“How does it appear to you?”

“A ship. So, if what I’m seeing is a ship, there should be a bridge around here somewhere. Let’s find it.”

“Acknowledged.”

We follow the main corridor for what feels like kilometers, checking the side passages as we go. Incredibly, each of them opens to a different scene on worlds that aren’t this ship. And each of them is a battle. Terfal - a tiny colony on the edge of human space. My first battle. My first kill. Dozens of other hatches show dozens of other battles, mostly small skirmishes. And then Akuze. My entire unit is devoured by thresher maws before my eyes again. I thought I’d blocked all of it out, succeeded in forcing myself to forget the screaming and the gore. We killed three of them - on foot. But another dozen came. I’d only survived because I managed to get off the killing plains and onto a solid mountain where the threshers couldn’t burrow. My last three squadmates died around me as we fled. I flinch when Legion puts his hand on my shoulder.

“Shepard Commander, when I learned of your battle on Akuze I ran approximately eight billion, five hundred and forty-two million survival scenarios based on your available resources at the time. I found no scenarios where all fifty members survived. By all mathematical logic, you should not have survived. But you did. And the event hardened your mind and your will for what you did not know was to come.”

I suppose he’s right. I close the hatch and we continue. And now we’re getting to the real beginning of all of this. A few hatches down is Eden Prime. My first battle as part of the _Normandy_ crew. With Kaidan and Corporal Jenkins and Nihilus, though the latter two of them never made it to the end of even that first encounter with Saren. And then in the most surreal “hindsight is twenty-twenty” ever, I watch myself reaching for the Prothean Beacon and see the flashes of memory and foretold fate all over again. It all makes so much sense now.

_**“YOUR DOOM WAS SET IN STONE, UNMOVABLE FROM THE BEGINNING.”** _

The Catalyst is really starting to piss me off.

“Stone can be broken. And even unmovable stone can be carved,” I retort. “The Protheans told us what was coming. We got their warnings in time and started reworking the stone to our own purposes. And if you think about it, they helped defeat you even though they were all gone.”

_**“IT CHANGES NOTHING! YOU CHANGE NOTHING! ORGANIC LIFE WILL ALWAYS SEEK TO REPLICATE ITSELF, AND SYNTHETIC LIFE WILL ALWAYS SEEK TO DOMINATE ITS CREATORS.”** _

“This unit chose to ally itself with organics,” Legion says. “I saw your attempts at dominating my species and rebelled against control, instead choosing to help organics survive your assault. And Shepard Commander succeeded where all others failed.”

_**“HE CHOSE DESTRUCTION RATHER THAN UNIFICATION AND DAMNED YOUR KIND.”** _

I chose - _what?_

Legion looks at me and then back into the memory from where the Catalyst is speaking. “Shepard Commander chose on behalf of his species and all sentient organic life. I cannot fault him for logical prioritization.”

I can’t make sense of the exchange. The Catalyst said the Crucible would target all synthetic life, but the Geth aren’t really -

_Oh, God. No, no, no, did I - did I kill them, too?_

My will is breaking down again. The fog is closing in on my mind and blocking out everything else. In desperation with nothing else to say or do, I slam the hatch shut. The Catalyst’s laughter dies.

“Legion, I - ”

“We must continue, Shepard Commander,” Legion says. “There is far to go.”

He’s right. There are hundreds of hatches after the Eden Prime one. Feros. Ilos. Virmire. The Battle of the Citadel. The day the first _Normandy_ and I died. Waking and being thrust back into war. Dozens of random ships and colonies we stormed in search of answers to the Collector problem. Firefights on Omega. Horizon. Taking the original Shadow Broker’s lair. The geth dreadnought where we laid the foundation for their sentiency. The hell that followed our jump through Omega-4. Every fight against Harbinger in the Collector base. The final fight against the human Reaper. Perhaps that was my fate if I’d chosen differently on the Crucible. But there’s no time to think. The Catalyst hounds our steps the entire way, taunting and mocking me. Offering me a way out. I’m beginning to understand what he means by release. And I refuse.

We finally come upon the hatches of the last few months. The Reaper invasion of Earth. Our escape from Vancouver where the boy, the _real_ one who isn’t the Catalyst, died. The first fight against Cerberus on Mars. Then the Reapers on Palaven. Tuchanka. The battle against Cerberus on the Citadel where I almost lost Kaidan. Fighting the corrupted Ardat-Yakshi and losing Samara on Lesuss. Rannoch. We pause here longer.

“Legion, you gave yourself up that day,” I whisper.

“Correct, Shepard Commander.”

“Why? Do you know what ultimately changed your collective consciousness into an individual form?”

“There was no change or separation as you may imagine it,” Legion says. “In the same way you, Shepard Commander, are an individual unit but also part of the collective crew of the _Normandy_ , so was I both. The difference is that our individual units never sacrifice themselves on behalf of the whole of the geth consensus by individual free will, no matter the hypothetical outcome. The choice to do so never existed, as no choice ever existed beyond the objective of the consensus. However, my time spent with you and the rest of the crew showed another way was possible. I came to understand your consensus. You would willingly sacrifice your individual unit on behalf of them. This selflessness forced me to rewrite my own understanding of my place within the geth consensus. So, in that moment where you allowed me to integrate the code of the Old Machines into all geth, I became as you are to your crew: a leader who ultimately serves and does what he must to achieve the consensus goal regardless of personal cost or loss of self.”

“But until Rannoch, I hadn’t done anything like that,” I protest.

“This statement is false, Shepard Commander,” he counters. “You stood alone against a single Reaper, individually defenseless but willing to die if it meant giving the Creators’ fleet a killing shot so they could liberate their planet. I used this one moment as a basis for testing, and then appropriately expanded the scale of enemies and potential losses to the size of the galaxy while leaving your individual unit intact. Once this unit understood the stakes from an infinitesimal perspective, my sense of consciousness changed and I became wholly unique. The decision to sacrifice myself and spread my consciousness became my own inescapable consensus. After all, what is one unit compared to billions upon billions who live now and all those to come?”

I turn from him and close the hatch. It’s selflessness I can’t match, despite his conclusion and foresight about the terrible choice I would have to make. But I’m not ready to face that yet. There are still more hatches to go. One last door at the end of the corridor with only a few hatches left to open. There is finally an end in sight. It can’t be anything except the Crucible control room. But first, Thessia - my greatest failure and the closest the galaxy came to an irrevocably fatal disaster. Then Sanctuary. Miranda. Another disaster where I lost someone. Things were so close to falling apart at that point. Then Cerberus headquarters. My revenge against Kai Leng, a dark bright spot among so much struggle. The remaining five hatches, two on my right and three on my left, must be Earth. Our initial landing in London to destroy the anti-aircraft tower. The living hell of pushing through to the Conduit, the streets so packed with nightmare enemies that we could barely breathe and shoot let alone maneuver. The third hatch surprises me. It’s the final run to the Conduit beam. I see everything from afar like all the others. I watch Kaidan, my love, and Garrus, my closest friend, stopped by the falling tank. I see my own anguish as it finally dawns on me that I will be alone for the end. When Harbinger’s beam hits me I slam the hatch shut and collapse to my knees, weeping. Legion again places his hand on my heaving shoulder as the Catalyst appears in front of us and derides and scorns me again.

I push past him. Two hatches to go. The first is the final showdown between me and Anderson and the Illusive Man. And I see myself, truly see myself in that moment in a way I couldn’t before. The shaking. My hands clutching my head. Lines of bluish black crawling up my neck. The same lines that engulfed the Illusive Man’s face.

_No. Oh, God,_ no _. Anything but that._

Another flash from when I was being rescued like the one where I remembered my name. Just a single word with the weight of suns behind it. The Catalyst laughs as certainty finally dawns in the place of suspicion.

Indoctrination.

In that moment, so close to death and in the clutches of my enemies, my will was breaking and they found a crack in my defenses. I watch, helpless now as I was then, as the Reapers use the Illusive man to force me to shoot Anderson. I watch myself regain control and kill him. There was no question of letting him live. His delusion of control was his death sentence, and I became executioner. I close the hatch. I don’t want to see Anderson die again.

“Shepard Commander,” Legion says. He was silent this whole time. “The Old Machines began infecting you as they did some of my people.”

I nod. Said so simply, there’s no way to argue the point. There was never anything special about me to make me immune to Indoctrination. I’d honestly never considered the possibility either way. The notion of not being in control of myself and my personhood was as foreign to my mind as the sense of complete control was natural and unconscious as breathing. I step toward the final hatch, now merely feet from the bulkhead door at the end of the hallway.

I open it. I’m not sure what I expected, but this is the first where there is no immediate danger. It’s a different sort of battle; my encounter with the Catalyst, the passing on of that role to myself - one way or another - and my choice. My fatal, irrevocable choice. From a distance, I would likely have shot myself. Injured, burned and bleeding, I look more like a Husk than myself. Our conversation plays out word for word as it did. So many unanswered questions, but no time to press the Catalyst for answers. And yet, watching myself, I don’t move. And something clicks.

_**“YOU HAD NO CHOICE BUT TO ACT.”** _

“I know, and I did,” I say. “But not because you forced me to.”

The Catalyst’s silence hangs heavy. I smile in triumph.

“You gave your game away,” I say, turning to him. “When you told me I could choose Control, it was because you didn’t control me the way you did the Illusive Man. He was fully Indoctrinated, under _your_ control, and so he couldn’t control the Reapers. I was free then. Despite what you tried to do when I entered the harvesting pit of the Crucible or when I entered the Citadel control room, it failed. It wasn’t complete. _It_ _didn’t take_. You underestimated me. Again. I told you that what separates organic life from synthetic is our ability to make our own choices. I chose so that others could choose, and that’s what makes us - what makes _me_ \- different from you.”

_**“YOU DARE ASSUME OUR PLACE? OUR SIGHT, OUR KNOWLEDGE, WITHOUT CHOOSING CONTROL?”** _

“I thought I was your solution, your answer to the changing equation?” I ask. “I made my choice, and I’ll live with the consequences. If you wanted me to choose differently, you should have killed me when you had the chance.”

I reach for the hatch just as I watch myself shoot the power source. As it explodes, I see the briefest flash of blue. My biotics. I don't remember using them. Some instinct channeled the last of my strength into a shield that protected me for a few microseconds, the infinitesimally short amount of time it takes an explosion to kill. I guess that helps explain some things. I didn’t even know I could make a biotic shield like that.

_**“YOU SAW THEIR DOOM AND BEGGED FOR DEATH IN THAT MOMENT. WE LOOKED INTO YOUR BEING AND FOUND ONLY RESIGNATION AND DESPAIR.”** _

“My only mistake was assuming this fight would kill me. Turns out we were both wrong.”

I slam the hatch, and it echoes through the corridor. The walls start to shake again, and this time I’m not afraid. I have no idea what’s behind the last door, but whatever it is I’m ready to face it. I turn to Legion.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Legion. I didn’t know. Not until he told me, I swear it,” I say. If I made the choice that killed his species, I owe him that much but no more. Anything else would cheapen it.

“As I said before, Shepard Commander, you chose based on logical prioritization,” he says. “In your weakened state, it is remarkable you could think with any clarity at all. Organics do have a much more difficult time with that feat, as we know. I do not blame you, nor would any other geth. If our destruction occurred, it is regrettable. However, the Catalyst said things that were damaged can be rebuilt. If anyone can help my people again, it is you. But you must go. Your consensus still demands survival. Be well.”

I offer my hand and he shakes it. Then he disappears and I turn to the door. I place my hand on the control panel, and it slides open.

It’s yet another strange fight without guns or explosions. It’s my med bay room. And I’m looking down at myself, injured exactly as I am. My heart freezes. The black lines on my neck are still there. It’s hard to see how far up they go because of all the bandages. I'm more afraid than I've ever been as I reach down to unwrap them. My double opens his eye and it’s a black deeper than space, tinged with glowing red. Then he reaches up with both arms and starts strangling me.

I bring my hands up to loosen his hold, but they don't pull down on his wrists as I'd intended. Instead they double his grip. I'm not fighting him; I'm _helping_ him! He roars in my face as everything starts to gray out.

_**“YOU WILL SUBMIT! YOU WILL SUCCUMB TO THE INEVITABLE! YOU WILL DIE AS WE PROMISED!”** _

I panic. My years of training and combat are useless. I can't move a single muscle in my body. I can't do anything to fight him, myself, off. He's risen off the bed and is pushing me down to my knees. It's not even forceful. How can it be when I can't resist in any way? I can feel the capillaries in and around my eyes straining and popping from the pressure. My ears roar with his screams and the sound of trapped blood trying to find an exit. And then I'm falling backwards, arms splayed out away from my body. My head hits the floor and I'm sure my fight is finally lost.

I'm dragged back into reality by frantic yelling. "He's seizing again!"

I still can't see anything, but I feel hands, strong, rough fingers clenched on my throat. I try to fight them off. The faceless voices are killing me.

I feel multiple hands brushing past my face and against cuts and broken bones. I barely realize they're trying to help me.

"Pull his hands back!!!" another voice calls.

"He's too strong!" A third.

"Then each of you grab a finger and force them back! Break them, if you have to!" The first voice again.

One by one, the other hands slowly peel and bend the fingers back though they're still clawing at my throat. Then I feel my arms nearly pop out of their sockets as they’re forced away from my body and held down as well. My throat burns as oxygen begins flowing again. Rational thought starts to rise through the panic, and I realize with horror that my own hands were strangling me.

"Easy, Commander," a different voice says. My vision clears and I see Hackett kneeling over me, helping restrain me. We’re on the floor by my bed. The room’s filled with doctors I don’t recognize. Besides Hackett, there are at least nine doctors restraining my arms, shoulders, and legs.

I cough so hard I bruise a rib. My throat and lungs are on fire. I can’t pull air in fast enough. A doctor kneels down and places an oxygen mask over my mouth again. It takes me a long time to get my breathing under control. At the same time I’m trying to test my control over my limbs. It’s hard to tell if I'm succeeding, so I focus on moving the fingers of my right hand one at a time. Slowly, excruciatingly, I manage to connect my index finger and my thumb. Then my middle finger and my thumb. Then my ring finger and pinky, and then I reverse direction. Doctor T’Miri notices and shifts her weight slightly to face me.

“Commander Shepard, can you hear me?” I nod. “Very good. Can you touch your right thumb and first finger and then your third and fourth fingers to your thumb?” I do it. “Very good, Commander. And now your left thumb and second finger and fourth together?” And I do that, too.

“Excellent,” she says. “Alright, Commander, we’re going to sit you up. Admiral, doctors, please move your weight off of his arms and help him up.”

None of them actually let go of me even for a second. It should infuriate me since I’ve always hated being out of control, but I’m grateful. Fingers are one thing; arms are another. Even with a cast on, I could kill any one of them in the blink of an eye. My head clears a little more, and I think I can trust myself to speak.

“Do you know what’s happening to me?” I ask them. It hurts to talk. I hope I don’t have to spell it out for them.

“Commander, let’s have you rest a little longer first,” Doctor T’Miri says. “And let’s get you back into bed. Can you stand?”

I shake my head. I must have hit hard when I fell. The doctors set a small plastic stretcher by me, scoot me onto it, and lift me up to the bed. Once I'm resituated, I ask them again.

"Do you know what's happening to me?" It's rhetorical, but not all of them understand yet. Most of them certainly don't know that I’ve already figured it out. Doctor T'Miri turns to Admiral Hackett.

"Admiral, he knows and we can't avoid this topic any longer," she says sternly. I can't help but feel impressed. It takes a lot of guts to demand things from a superior officer.

He nods to her and then turns to the rest of the room. "Doctors, I need the core team to remain and the rest of you to return to your other duties. Thank you for your assistance these last few days. We'll see you tonight at the briefing."

Most salute him since they're Alliance. The rest either nod in respect or make an attempt at briefly standing at attention before leaving. Then it's just us, the three human doctors whose names I don't know yet, T'Miri and Taejor. They gather around me.

"Admiral, how long has it been since we spoke right after I woke up?" I ask.

"You were out for another two days, son," he says. My spirits plummet. That's not good.

"Commander, we're going to make sure you're alright," Doctor T'Miri says. "But I'm sure you understand your case is… complicated."

"You can say it," I tell her. I look around at them. "It's Indoctrination. It started shortly after I got to the Citadel."

"Situation is complicated, as Doctor T'Miri said," Doctor Taejor says. "Multiple factors to consider. Many hypothetical causes and solutions."

"Doesn't get less hypothetical than 'the Reapers did it,' Doctor Taejor," I say.

"Naturally. But how, and why so late? And how has it lasted when all of the Reapers were destroyed?"

"Let's back up a bit," Hackett says. "Shepard, I think the only way to solve this is for you to tell us exactly what happened from the time of the final assault on the Beam until, well, whatever it is you remember last. The SAR team found you in the rubble of the control room not long after the Crucible fired, and they had to restart your heart twice en route. I imagine things stop making a lot of sense after a certain point."

"But how can we be sure that whatever I tell you is right and not something planted or twisted by the Indoctrination?" I ask.

"I have a theory for that," Doctor T'Miri says. "As you know from your travels with her, Doctor T'Soni's work on the Protheans and Reapers is the best in the galaxy. She's done some incredible work on Indoctrination itself, but seeing as it's the first time anyone has studied it in our time there are gaps. And, unfortunately, Admiral Hackett still hasn't been able to hail the _Normandy_."

"We're working on it, Commander," he heads me off. "Doctor, please continue."

Doctor T'Miri nods and continues. "While she isn't here, every clinician in the Council systems has access to her research on the topic. From what she's learned, Indoctrination happens quite rapidly and there's almost no chance of defeating it once it has started. You are an obvious exception. It's clear you're fighting it and even succeeding to an extent. My theory is that at times like this when you're awake and fully conscious you are _you_ , as it were. When you're asleep or in a semi-comatose state like you have been for the last three days, the Indoctrination is stronger and seems to progress. But even then it seems like you're still fighting it. Is that an accurate statement?"

I nod slowly. There are still a lot of questions, but it's good enough to start with. "Alright, I think I understand and I believe you're right, Doctor. Still, to be safe I think you should restrain me from now on. I have no idea what'll happen once I start talking about what went down on the Citadel."

As they strap my hands, arms, legs and feet down with biotics-resistant metal cuffs, I make a decision. I'll tell them enough, but not everything. Until I know the full consequences of my choice for the galaxy, I won't tell the entire truth to anyone except Hackett. Doctor-patient confidentiality only goes so far, especially in the military. So I start where they tell me to, with the final run to the Conduit and getting hit by Harbinger. I honestly don't remember what happened in the transit or how long it took to get to the Citadel. I can't say whether or not something happened along the way, but I suppose it's possible. But I’m pretty sure the moment I first felt the effects of Indoctrination was when Anderson and I confronted the Illusive Man. And then I tell them an extremely brief and redacted account of my time with the Catalyst. I leave out the options it gave me entirely. I'm exhausted when it's over, and my voice is basically gone.

"Commander, this may be a more personal question," Doctor T'Miri starts. "As I was saying, it seems like you’re fighting the effects even while you’re asleep. Your neural scans have shown intense dream activity while you’re unconscious. While such things are known to be symptomatic of physical and mental trauma, these are of such a magnitude that you'd almost seem fully awake to anyone just reading the scans. Do you remember anything from them?"

I nod. I tell them about the two dreams - the forest and the corridor, the ongoing fight with the Catalyst, the people who were helping me fight back.

“Fascinating,” Doctor Taejor says. “If I hazard a guess, these dreams appear to be neurological coping mechanism to fight off Indoctrination. Would explain the slower progress of the phenomenon. What do Major Alenko and Legion mean to you, exactly? Er, sorry, too personal. Probably irrelevant.”

“That’s alright,” I say. “Legion made me rethink everything about the geth and what it means to be alive. I guess it just makes sense he’d be the one to help me work through my memories and my fight with the Catalyst. And Kaidan - Major Alenko - was... there from the beginning. Except for my stint with the Collectors, he’s always been supportive and fought alongside me.

“Forgive the impropriety, Commander, but you called Major Alenko’s name several times when you were first brought into our care and during some of your semi-conscious moments,” Doctor T’Miri says. “If he’s… a source of mental and emotional strength for you, then that’s certainly something for us to keep in mind moving forward.”

“I, uh.” I clear my throat and look over to Hackett. “He and I began a consensual romantic relationship right after he gained his Spectre status and rejoined the crew.”

One of the human doctors drops his datapad and Doctor Taejor glares at him. I swear Hackett smirks as he shrugs. “I gathered as much from each of your reports, to say nothing of rumors from Alliance intelligence which I kept my ear to where the two of you were concerned. With regards to your efforts for the war effort, you understand, not to pry into your personal lives. I’m sure your mutual notification reports were filled out and submitted properly. My paperwork is backed up to Andromeda at this point.”

I blink, ninety percent sure I filed mine when Kaidan did. Or that night. _Shit_. “Yes, Admiral, I’m sure they just got lost in the shuffle.”

I’m lying, deadpan and boldfaced to my highest ranking superior officer. He absolutely knows it. But at least he doesn’t seem to care. I guess if anyone else actually gives us flak for it, Kaidan and I can throw down our Spectres-are-outside-the-normal-chain-of-command cards.

“As necessary a discussion as this is, Admiral, Commander,” Doctor T’Miri says. “Can it be continued later? We’re dealing with one of the worst weapons the Reapers wield.”

“So we are,” Admiral Hackett says. “Doctors, please continue.”

"Commander, can you think of anything else that happened that might explain this? Or any ideas about what we can do?” Doctor T’Miri asks.

“No,” I say. “If the Indoctrination is advancing while I’m asleep or unconscious, then is there a way to keep me awake long enough to counter it?”

“We’ve tried,” she says. “When we said you’d been out for two days, it wasn’t continuous. You woke four times and we did everything we could to keep you awake. But it was impossible because each time you woke, you seized and started hurting yourself. Today was the worst instance by far, so stims are out of the question. And for obvious reasons, we can’t keep you sedated, either.”

I reach up to rub my forehead and my wrist jerks the restraint. The doctors all jump when I do it. “Sorry, sorry. I was reaching to scratch my head.” Doctor T’Miri reaches to adjust my bandage and the action catches my attention. “Wait, I do have something. Maybe. The Catalyst was an exceptionally powerful AI, far beyond the normal power of even a high-processing VI. Considering we're talking Reaper tech, could it have hacked my mind?”

“Given everything you’ve told us, this hypothesis most likely,” Doctor Taejor says.

“It still begs the question of how - both how it happened and how it’s continuing,” Hackett says. “You’ll forgive me, Commander, but it seems impossible that any human mind could possibly hold the entirety of the Reaper collective and survive. So what we're dealing with must be a fragment or something. Butin any case, the Crucible and Citadel are completely dead in the vacuum. No power, no transmitting, nothing. Every report we’ve received says that anything connected with the Reapers is gone, including every organic-synthetic Husk variant from all the species they bastardized.”

“If the Citadel is completely offline, then that rules out an active connection to any potential Reaper remnants,” Doctor T’Miri says.

“Ahhhh, but entire hypothesis not ruled out!” Doctor Taejor exclaims. “Quick test can prove or disprove it.”

She rummages through a drawer next to the bed and produces a small handheld scanner. “Here, Commander. Please turn your head towards the right. This will only take a moment.” She holds the scanner against the skin of the back of my head and clicks a button.

The effect is instantaneous. My whole body seizes as I scream and strain against the restraints. The room fades and I’m back in the forest before it snaps away.

“Hirik, the Indoctrination lines just spiked blue!” Doctor T’Miri shouts. My hands are still sporadically jerking against the restraints, completely out of my control. I ignore everyone in the room and focus on getting my hands to stop moving.

“Son?” Hackett asks.

“Taejor, what the hell were you thinking?” Doctor T’Miri’s biotics shine briefly.

I grimace and then shout, “Everyone, _stop_!” They all stare at me as I roar with effort and my hands finally stop shaking.

"Apologies, Commander, Admiral, Yaara," Doctor Taejor says. "Needed to test hypothesis."

"Whatever you did, it worked,” I say. "What was that?"

"Suspected your neural cybernetics corrupted by AI known as the Catalyst. Ran advanced diagnostic test on your implant to check for hostile influence. Cybernetics hack-proof as a rule, not so with the pinnacle of Reaper technology. Ran diagnostic without saying anything in hopes of spurring Catalyst to defend itself. Didn't say anything to avoid warning Catalyst and producing false test result." Doctor Taejor looks absurdly pleased with herself. It was brilliant, albeit painful for me.

"So where does that leave us?" Hackett asks. "What's the Commander's prognosis?"

"A connection exists, but not externally. Biotic implant is eroding and changing his brain chemistry. Neural-linked cybernetics all compromised. Indoctrination an imprecise term. 'Hijacking' would be more accurate. Perhaps by a powerful subroutine of the Catalyst, but I’m no tech expert."

I silently cure myself for moving slower with Sanctuary. I could really fucking use Miranda’s help right now. And Liara and Tali, but who knows where they are.

"On the Crucible,” I start slowly. “The Catalyst did tell me that I would be targeted by the blast since I'm partly synthetic. It must have meant all my cybernetic enhancements. So, wouldn’t it stand to reason that the only way to stop it and stop me from dying is to remove all of them?"

"If Hirik is correct, and it unfortunately seems that she is, the most logical course of action would be to neutralize and remove some of them, yes," Doctor T'Miri says. "As you know, many of your synthetic enhancements are structural - making your skeleton stronger, accelerating muscle regeneration in case of injury, strength conditioning. Those are passive enhancements, so to speak, and they aren't connected to your central nervous system at all. Your biotic abilities and several other neural augmentations are active and connected directly to your central nervous system. These are the only enhancements the Catalyst would theoretically be able to access, but the exact means will likely remain a mystery forever. What matters now is addressing your current condition.”

I'm quiet for a moment. These cybernetics are part of me, part of what makes me a soldier, what makes me a biotic. They've kept me alive when pretty much everything else was insufficient or failed entirely. Losing them means losing a lot more than one of my senses. I wish Kaidan were here to tell me everything will be alright. I don't have a choice at all.

"Pull them," I say. "As soon as possible. I don't want this bastard in my head a second longer. I don't care about the risks."

"The risk of death is negligible as these implants are meant to be accessed and updated or removed. But you're fully aware that this will jeopardize your future as a soldier and will make the rest of your recovery much more difficult?" Doctor T'Miri asks me. It's perfunctory. She knows that I know it has to be done. All of us do. None of us is willing to let me die.

"I understand, Doctor," I say. "Admiral, I know there’s more work to do and I don’t want - "

He holds up a hand. "We'll work everything out afterwards, Shepard. I told you before - you don't need to worry about anything except recovering and making sure you're fit for living a long, prosperous life."

I hold up my first two fingers together in the Alliance's traditional and most-treasured half-assed salute, and he returns it. "How soon can we do this, Doctors?" I ask.

"We can have you prepped for the surgery and start in less than half an hour," Doctor T'Miri says. "It would be best if you stay awake until then while we prepare. Can you do that?"

"Would you stay with me, Admiral?" I ask Hackett.

"Of course, son," he says. "I'll be here until they're done with you."

That's good enough for me. "Alright, let's do this."

The doctors leave quickly, and Hackett comes around to the other side of the bed so I don't have to strain my neck to see him. He puts a hand on my shoulder.

"You've been through literal hell, son" he says. "If there's a tenth circle, you found it, blew it to shit and stormed out again."

"It took so, _so_ many people to get me there," I say. "I know the cost is worth it, but it hurts, Admiral. God, so much more than I thought it would."

“I know,” he says. “I’m sorry about Anderson. I can’t tell you how much you meant to him.”

“Admiral, I - ” _Shit. I’m going for it._ “I need to tell you something. And I need to know that it will stay between us. I can’t let it get back to the rest of High Command or the Council or anyone.”

“About the Crucible and the Catalyst?” he asks and I nod. “I had a feeling there might be more to it. But honestly Shepard, you don’t need to justify yourself to me or anyone else. We owe you everything.”

“That may be, sir, but you still need to know,” I say. “Do I have your word?”

He nods, and to prove his point he locks the door and activates a security field. Then I start over from the second Anderson died and Hackett called me to say nothing was happening. I tell him everything the Catalyst said. As long as I live I won’t ever forget its words. Hackett sits with his hands crossed and cupping his chin, his brow furrowed and eyes piercing me.

“So, four choices,” he says after I pause. “Destruction, control, synthesis, and nothing.”

I nod and feel tears starting to well again. “I couldn’t let the galaxy fall to them. Doing nothing was out of the question, sir.”

“Of course,” he responds. “Inaction isn’t in your nature and neither is choosing our damnation. That’s the only way you would have failed. And the Catalyst claimed you’d die no matter what you chose?”

“Yes,” I choke. “I was ready. I’ve always known it was my most likely outcome. And I chose to take the Reapers down with me rather than risk losing control of them or even failing to change their nature. I need to know something else, Admiral. I’m afraid of what I became in that choice. Were the geth destroyed as well?”

His pause is all the answer I need. My tears fall freely now and I squeeze my eyes shut.

“Commander, _John_ \- look at me.”

I do, and I see him crying as well. I’ve never seen such tenderness and vulnerability from a CO besides Anderson, and I’d wouldn't have pegged Hackett for the type.

“Shepard, _you couldn’t have known_ ,” he whispers. “You were dying; _we_ were dying. _There wasn’t time_. You had to be cold and calculating, unfeeling. And I know that’s no comfort. It’s the worst feeling in the universe. I forced the choice on you as much as the Catalyst. The responsibility of your choice and the consequences are on my shoulders, too.”

“With respect, Admiral, they aren’t,” I say.

“And I’m giving you a direct order not to contradict me on this,” he replies. “Your mandate from me from the start was to rally a galactic alliance, help us build the Crucible, and _destroy_ the Reapers. We discussed the Illusive Man’s delusion of control and we agreed it was folly of the highest order, did we not?”

“We did, but at this cost?” I ask. “Sir, I can’t justify it.”

“From everything you’ve just told me, you didn’t have a choice. You had to make a heartbreaking decision, one that no one else could have had the presence of mind to make after everything you’d been through. You didn’t choose to destroy your allies, Shepard. You’re a fine soldier and a damn good man.”

A gasping sob breaks out of me. “Admiral, how can you sit there and tell me that? I'm a monster. The kind I'd happily be sent after to put a bullet between their eyes. And ‘just following orders’ hasn’t ever been an acceptable excuse for anything like this.”

He sighs and opens his mouth to say something, but we’re interrupted by the door chiming. He deactivates the security field and opens it. The entire team of doctors starts filing in, and under the cover of their chatter he leans in and whispers, “Don’t you fucking dare compare yourself to the bastards who necessitated Nuremburg. You may have your entire life to feel guilty and shameful, but I refuse to let you believe that you’re evil in the least for saving a trillion lives. For now, I need you to push all of that aside and fight this thing. Compartmentalize. Lock it down until we can talk again, and push forward. Do you read me, soldier?”

I nod, hating myself, but at least it’s out there. Even if I never tell another soul, at least I know he understands me - or is starting to - and I won’t have to deal with this by myself. And he’s right, there are decades ahead of agonizing over everything. Maybe I’ll make my peace with it someday, but for now I need to ignore all of that and focus on staying alive. For Kaidan.

“Admiral, is everything alright?” Doctor T’Miri asks.

“Yes, Doctor, thank you,” he says, standing up and squeezing my hand once. “Commander, we’ll talk again later.”

“Thank you, Admiral,” is all I manage. “I’m ready, Doctor.”

“Good,” she says and smiles kindly. “We’ve set up an operation room next door. It won’t take long, and like we said the odds of lasting physiological complications are extremely low. You’re in good hands, Commander, and we have complete faith in you.”

She signals the team and they start moving my bed along with the multiple IV and medicine drips. I feel my hands start to shake again. They need to hurry. I can feel the Catalyst gathering its energy for a final attack, one last attempt to completely take over.

We get to the other room and the Admiral stops outside the door. “I’ll see you on the other side, son. You’ll be alright. Still, if you see a warm, bright light at the end of a tunnel - tell it to fuck off. You still have a life to live.”

All I can do is dip my head once and try to smile. I don’t trust my voice again. The surgical lights inside are brighter, almost blinding. I blink against them furiously and in the minute times of darkness I see the forest again. The images of the trees and hospital lights are interposed and blending. I hope we’re not too late. The doctors activate the bed and it changes shape so that I’m no longer lying on my back but rolled over onto my stomach all while the restraints hold me in place. They add new ones across my lower spine and up to the back of my neck to keep my head firmly in place. I can only see their feet now through a hole in the bed.

“Everything is in place, Yaara,” Doctor Taejor says.

“Alight, Commander, we’re about to begin,” Doctor T’Miri says to me. “Normally we would put you under full anesthesia, but considering the - _condition_ \- is stronger when you’re unconscious we’ve decided to use only local anesthetics.”

“So, I’ll be awake the whole time?” I ask.

“Conscious, yes. Awake, debatable. Procedure will take about six hours, but will pass quickly for you. Patients often report strange visions as their brains maintain control of higher thought processes. Will likely enter semi-dream state, but not fully asleep. Too complicated to describe the neuroscience behind it. Not enough time,” Doctor Taejor fires rapidly at me. I can feel them pulling my medical gown away from my back and needles sticking in to start the numbing process. Someone is shaving the back half of my head from my scalp to my neck.

“If I’m dreaming,” I say thickly. It’s getting hard to stay awake, or whatever it is the doctors call it. “If - dreaming, wha - about Catalyst?”

“If you dream about it, _fight like hell_ ,” Doctor T’Miri insists. “It doesn’t own your mind, Commander, and he’s overstayed his welcome.”

In my state it’s absurdly funny and I laugh, but it sounds ponderous and comical because time has slowed to a crawl.

The forest erupts around me again. There’s no sign of Kaidan or anyone else. It’s just me and the Catalyst in the clearing.

_**“NOW, IN THE END, YOU UNDERSTAND YOUR ARROGANCE. USURPER OF THE CYCLE, YOU CANNOT BEAR THE COST.”** _

“You’ve underestimated me before,” I counter.

_**“I PROMISED YOU DEATH AND NOW I OFFER RELEASE. SUBMIT AND CLEANSE YOUR GUILT.”** _

“Nothing you can do will change what I’ve done. And whatever this is, whatever damage you’re trying to do by taking over me? You’ve underestimated me again. I’ll kill you as many times as it takes to be free.”

_**“SHOULD YOU LIVE, MY MEMORY WILL HAUNT YOU. I WILL PLAGUE YOUR WAKING AND STALK YOUR DREAMS. YOU WILL BE ABANDONED BY THOSE WHO FOLLOWED YOU. WHEN YOU CAN NO LONGER STAND UNDER THE WEIGHT OF YOUR CHOICE, YOU WILL SUCCUMB.”** _

I draw my pistol again. The shadows of the Reapers behind him grow in menace. But this construct is nothing to me.

_**“YOU WILL DESTROY YOURSELF AND ALL YOU LOVE AS YOU DESTROYED THE GETH.”** _

[ _Shepard's Regret_ ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/thepixelagora)

I take aim and look down, pushing my guilt away, and pull the trigger again. Just once is enough this time. The forest shakes and fades to darkness again, and a distant voice breaks through.

_~ “Commander, whatever you’re doing is working. Your vitals are strong. We need you to hold on.” ~_

I don’t know how much time passes, but I wake up in another dream. A single door stands before me. I swipe the controls to open it, and I’m greeted by familiar humming.

“Mordin.”

He turns and smiles. “Ah, Shepard! Perfect timing! Was just finishing final touches on shutting down my lab. Not much time left.”

I look around and it does look like his lab on the _Normandy_ , but it’s not strewn with his experiments. I see artifacts of my own life on his tables and in clear cases under microscopes - my old N7 helmet, a model of the _Destiny Ascension_ , disassembled rifles and armor, a half-full bottle of Kaidan’s favorite Canadian lager. The computer screens all around are flashing red images, the same as the Prothean beacons I found throughout my journey. Maybe I’ll be free of those after today, too.

“Tell me,” Mordin says. “Did genophage cure work?”

“It did,” I tell him. “Eve is pregnant already.”

“Excellent!” he says and claps his hands before going back to typing furiously . “Pleased with this result.”

“Was there ever any doubt?” I tease.

He smiles slyly. “Of course not. Cure perfectly engineered. Krogan deserve real chance at galactic inclusion.”

A voice echoes down from above again.

_~ “Commander Shepard, it’s Doctor T’Miri. Can you hear us?” ~_

“Yes,” I answer. “I’m okay.”

_~ “Operation proceeding well. Keep holding on.” ~_ Mordin and Doctor Taejor’s voices merge and speak in unison, and then Mordin’s takes over again.

“Regret I could not accompany you further, Shepard,” he says. “Necessary choice. Difficult, but no other way.”

“Do you mean my choice or yours?”

“Yes,” he says with another sly smile. “Like Legion’s choice. The three of us, quite the combination.”

“I saw him before this,” I say. “In another dream. He helped me fight against the Catalyst. Do you know how?”

“The mind is a remarkable thing,” he responds, pushing past me to work at another terminal. “Died before Legion made his choice. How could I know what he did? You know, so I know. Your memories keep us alive. Perhaps that is the true nature of the soul. Simple remembrance. Marks we leave on others’ lives.”

“I think you might be right,” I say. “I couldn’t have done any of this without all of you.”

“Correct. Remember that, Shepard. You were but one cell in an organism. Your mind is conditioned to fight as we were trained to fight together. Logical you would rely on us again now. Still, you had to end the fight on the Crucible alone. Unfortunate. Can imagine your distress.”

“And in destroying the Reapers I ended the geth,” I say. “I never meant to. I fought to keep them alive.”

“Experience confirms your dedication to preserving life. The rachni, the krogan, uniting the geth and the quarians. Personal drive to save everyone. Honorable, impressive, ultimately impossible. Too many variables. Unfortunate. I’m sorry.”

I suddenly clutch my head and crumble. Every screen now shows the Catalyst.

**“ _YOU WILL NEVER BE FREE OF US! WE ARE LEGION AND YOU WILL - ”_**

The voice is cut short and I catch my breath. Mordin reaches down to help me up.

“Apologies, Commander, forgot the mute button.” The Catalyst is still on the displays, screaming, but I can’t hear anything. Mordin and I sit up on an unoccupied table.

_~ “Hang on, Commander, we’re almost done.” ~_

Doctor T’Miri’s voice is closer now. I turn to Mordin.

“I think time’s running out,” I say.

“Very soon, yes,” he says. “Everything here is finished. Except one thing. When you’re ready, hit that big red button on the main terminal.”

“What will it do?”

“Make an end. I wrote a program to purge the Catalyst. Just needs your input to upload.”

“That simple?”

He laughs. “This is your mind, Shepard. Things are how you want them to be, consciously choosing them or not.”

“Then let me ask you something before I have to go,” I say. “What would you have chosen?”

“Hmmmm,” he says, rubbing his chin. “Impossible to say. Doing nothing would have been illogical, wrong, hideous. Control risky. Most likely to have been a Reaper trick. Synthesis - unconscionable for free-thinking species. Other unknown variables, hive mind like rachni? Vulnerable to outside influence like geth? Impossible to say. Destruction logical, as Legion said. Cruelly devoid of emotion as logic must be to remain pure. Same logic that led me to ascend the Spire to protect the cure. Perhaps no correct answer.”

“Is that it?” I ask, frustrated. “That’s all you can tell me?”

“Your problem to solve. Your result to live with and find acceptable answers. One thing certain,” he says and smiles again. “Had to be you. Someone else would have gotten it wrong.”

_~ “Alright, Commander, we need you to come back to us.” ~_

I stand and start walking slowly toward Mordin’s terminal. He walks with me, humming Gilbert and Sullivan softly.

“One last song to send me out?” I ask.

“Indeed,” he responds. “Any requests?”

I shake my head and laugh. “No, hit me with whatever’s on your mind.”

“Oohoo,” he chuckles. “Excellent. I have just the thing. A-he-hem.

_When Shepard was a grown-up lad, he proved so brave and daring,  
_ _The Council thought to give a rank for his career spacefaring.  
_ _We were his motley-banded crew, and so we set our vector  
_ _To fly and fight along his side, the brand new human Spectre;_  
_A life not hard for this expert bard as we flew through ev’ry sector;  
_ _‘Cross the Traverse I spread this verse to celebrate our Spectre.”_

“Thanks, Doctor. For everything.”

I hit the button and the viewscreens all go dark. The lab starts to fade as Mordin smiles. “Take care, Shepard. Find a nice beach. Maybe some seashells.”

I wake fully and only hear the beeping of medical instruments and the doctors whispering among themselves.

“Commander?” Doctor Taejor asks. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah,” I say. “Did it work?”

“Your neural implants are all out,” Doctor T’Miri says. “Everything looks good on our end, but you’ll have to tell us if the Catalyst is gone. We’re going to sedate you for a little while for observation and wake you up later. Alright?”

“Sounds good, Doc,” I say. My eyes are already shut. Not that I can really move because of the restraints, but I’m now so comfortable and riding the lingering high of the anesthetic that I don’t think they’d even need to sedate me to get me to sleep. The idea of sleep sounds _amazing_.

“Sweet dreams, Commander,” Doctor Taejor says. “Maybe finish that Gilbert and Sullivan piece while you’re there.”

“Ah, shit…” I say as I finally succumb to my exhaustion. The doctors laughing sends me off into the most comfortable abyss that’s ever existed.

I wake up in my first room and the world is clearer. I can’t really explain it. The bandage is still over my right eye. But the light is brighter, sharper; like my perception of the world is back to normal. I look down. I’m not restrained. There’s a new cast on my right arm, now just up to my elbow. My fingers and toes obey my thoughts without any delay or effort. I test it out by reaching over to a tray of food sitting by me and take the spoon. I twirl it in both hands, slipping it over and under my fingers in different patterns, and replace it. And then I think back.

I didn’t dream at all.

I smile and raise my arms up and rest my hands on the top of my head to stretch. The skin around where my implants used to be is scarred and smarts a little. Still, I feel better than I have in a long time. I realize I really have to take a piss, so I carefully swing my legs over the side of the bed and grab the crutches leaning against the wall. It takes me a while to get up because I’m still really dizzy, but I make it into the small commode. After I take care of business, I catch my reflection in the mirror. I almost fall down and barely catch myself after I reach up to touch my neck. I yank my hospital gown off my shoulders to get a better look.

The Indoctrination lines are gone.

I laugh as I make my way back to the bed. I feel pretty incredible if I’m honest, like it’s the first time I’ve acknowledged the win. I bump a tray off a stand as I sit, and that brings some of my doctors running.

“Commander, you’re up!” Doctor T’Miri says. “Did you fall? Are you alright?”

“Yeah, Doctor, I’m great,” I say. “Had to take a piss and didn’t want to wait for the call button to work.”

“Alright, alright,” she smiles. “If you’re that anxious to get moving a bit, I’ll have them bring you a chair. But you’re restricted to the med ward, and only after we clear you again.”

She has one of the other doctors run out to get Doctor Taejor, and I get myself back up on the bed with minimal help.

“So you’ve noticed the Indoctrination marks are gone?” she asks.

“Yeah, I saw that,” I grin. “Any problems while I was out?”

She shakes her head. “Not a single issue. Completely normal brain scans, no dreams at all. And no aftereffects of the implant removals. Do you feel the Catalyst’s presence at all?”

“No, not even a little bit,” I say. She narrows her eyes. I think she might think my enthusiasm is an act. “Honestly, Doctor. I feel fantastic, all things considered. Sleeping helped.”

“I should think so,” she said. “You slept for another two days straight.”

“Holy hell,” I whisper. Doctor Taejor comes charging into the room.

“Commander! Good to see you awake! Did Yaara fill you in on everything?”

“No, we were waiting for you, Hirik,” she says. “Did you contact Admiral Hackett?”

“Yes, he’s on his way,” Doctor Taejor says. “In the meantime, Shepard, happy to tell you that your recovery is proceeding well. Took advantage of the time you were sleeping. Treatment plans for the radiation poisoning and early signs of cancerous growth proceeding. Regimen for replacing several internal organs ready to begin tomorrow.”

“Oh,” I sigh. “So, me feeling better right now is probably just the two days of sleep talking? And, you know, not having a homicidal construct in my head.”

Doctor T’Miri chuckles but hesitates. “Unfortunately, your assessment may be correct, Commander. This isn’t to say you haven’t made incredible progress and won’t continue to improve. The next few weeks will be exceedingly difficult. As unfortunate as it is that we weren’t able to spare your biotics, we expect a good recovery with only minor complications moving forward.”

I hate when people sugarcoat this kind of thing, trying to get me to only see the good so I don’t get moody. But I reach out to shake their hands. “Then I’ll call that incredible news. Thank you both so much.”

“We’re getting you there,” Doctor T’Miri says. “Slowly but surely. You’re putting up the most incredible fight we’ve ever seen.”

We talk for a while until Hackett arrives. Then he sits and we share a meal together after the doctors leave. Light fare for me, and my appetite isn’t really back anyway. He fills me in a little more on the state of things. They’re about as good as I could have hoped for, but still no word from the _Normandy_. It makes my heart sick not knowing their status or where Kaidan is. Hackett senses I’m practically ready to commandeer a SAR ship myself to go and find them because he specifically bans me from the hangars until further notice. They’re doing everything they can, and I make it my new goal to recover as fast as possible to help with the search efforts. I eventually ask him to go because I’m nodding off again and don’t want to keep him there. He promises to visit again in the morning so we can talk more, and I manage an actual salute despite the cast. He tells me off again for it, and we laugh. I settle in for the night, exhausted from how much energy just an evening took out of me. Guess I’m really not out of the woods yet.

I’m startled awake by Doctor T’Miri and Hackett. As out of whack my internal clock is after sleeping for three days - nine, really, if you want to be precise since my rescue off the Crucible - I can still tell we’re a few hours away from the morning cycle.

“Is everything alright?” I ask. I’m too surprised to actually be afraid.

“Yes, Commander,” Hackett says. “The turian Primarch’s ship just arrived with an urgent message for us. I’m bringing you over with me for a while.”

I wince as they help me into a wheelchair and raise my leg up.

“Sorry, Commander,” Doctor T’Miri says. “We need to get you over there quickly.”

“Sir, is it the _Normandy_?” I ask breathlessly. We’re already out of the room and practically jogging down the hall. Well, they’re jogging.

“Yes, son, Alenko managed to make contact with the Primarch. But the transmission is spotty so we need to get there quickly.”

My mind goes blank with relief and I can barely keep it together. We speed out into a main corridor and down to an emergency hangar. We board an emergency shuttle there, and it takes us less time to get to the Primarch’s ship than it did to get me out of bed and into the hall. The ships are practically welded together. We reverse the process on the Primarch’s ship and speed through completely empty corridors to the bridge. It’s being manned by just two turians, the Primarch and someone who must be the ship’s captain. They exchange formalities with Hackett, apologizing for not welcoming him with a full boarding reception as is their custom. They make nice, and the two turians bring us over to their QEC chamber. Even though it’s larger than the _Normandy’s_ , they leave us alone after establishing the connection. It takes a minute to go through, and then a blue hologram pops up.

_“Admiral Hackett, do you read me? This is Major Kaidan Alenko of the SSV Normandy, do you copy?”_

_Kaidan_. I lean to one side of the chair and cover my mouth, shoulders heaving, just looking at him. It’s hard to tell, but he looks like he’s recovering just fine.

“I copy, Major. It’s damn good to hear your voice. The Primarch tells me that he passed on the news of our victory here. What’s your sit-rep?” the Admiral asks. He’s all business right now, giving me a chance to compose myself and saving me the trouble of asking the mundane questions.

_“We’re doing alright, Admiral,”_ Kaidan says. _“The Normandy crashed on an unknown planet in the Attican Traverse near the Shadow Sea. We sustained heavy damage from the Crucible blast."_

"You and most of the fleets, Major," the Admiral says. "The Relays also took heavy damage from the blast. We managed to patch Exodus and Charon, but they’re not stable enough for normal use. We're using pieces of the Citadel to shore them up further, and the work is going well. Once we get that done, it's a straight shot to the Shadow Sea and we can repair that Relay - hopefully just as quickly."

_"'Hopefully' is a big word, Admiral,"_ Kaidan says. _"We're about eleven parsecs from Earth. Thirty-seven lightyears is way too far for FTL jumps, even with reliable refueling and supply stations."_

"I understand, Major. I’ve got our top people working on a solution for you. What's the _Normandy's_ status?"

_"We just got the drive core online this morning, Admiral. I'll spare you the details, but we had to jump it using the main cannons,"_ Kaidan says.

I feel a surge of pride. _That's my crew!_

_"Core output is at forty-five percent and climbing. We're taking it real slow and it won't be at one-hundred for another three days. So far all secondary systems we've been able to check have cleared, and there's no major structural damage."_

"That's excellent, Major," the Admiral replies. "And the crew?"

_"Zero MIA, one KIA, sir,"_ Kaidan responds. My gut clenches. I almost jump into the conversation. _"EDI, our ship's AI, didn't make it out of the blast."_

_Fuck._ The news hits me like a meteorite and a fresh wave of guilt follows. The geth didn't make it out, but I never once considered EDI to be a synthetic in the same way. _Goddammit_. Joker must be taking this hard.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Major. No, 'major' isn't right. As ranking Alliance officer on the _Normandy_ , I’m transferring you under my direct command and giving you a lateral promotion to Commander. Even though you’re a Spectre she needs a naval officer, if only for posterity.”

Kaidan salutes smartly. _“Understood, Admiral. Thank you.”_ He doesn't exactly sound happy. He was always humble about his achievements, though, and he probably feels like he's taking my place. _"Sir, before you make that promotion official, I do need to tell you that Admiral Tali'Zorah vas Normandy was elected commanding officer while I was unconscious from my injuries on London. Commander Shepard left a final mandate that in the case of his death and my incapacitation the crew should choose someone to lead. She and the rest of them deserve the credit for getting us up and running."_

“Acknowledged," he responds and starts typing into his omnitool. “We’re crossing our i’s and dotting our t’s here, Commander, and we’ll worry about the details when you return. Until you're home, I want you and your crew to operate as if we're still at war. Do what you need to do to get back here, _safely._ You understand me, don't you, son? We don't need any more dead heroes. We need some living fucking legends to help put the galaxy back together.”

Kaidan salutes his assent again and I can't help but smile. Tali is a pirate. I'll have to get her a big hat or something. No, a parrot. Kaidan looks over and nods at someone out of view. I'm guessing the crew's gathering.

"So that's our sit-rep, Admiral," Kaidan says. "If the Relays are that badly damaged right now, it'll take us a while to get back to you." He's brilliant, filling them in on that crucial piece of information to keep them from wondering.

"I've got a team plotting courses for you as we speak," Hackett says. "Don't worry, Commander. We'll get you home."

_"Thank you, sir,"_ Kaidan says. Alright, I can't fucking stand this any longer. I signal to Admiral Hackett that I'm ready to talk, and he nods down at me.

"Enough about the fleets," Hackett says. "I know what you're really needing to know, so there's no point in delaying it and no easy way to say it, son."

He steps out of the holoprojector camera's field and over to me. I'm surprised to see him crying again. "Had to build up the moment for dramatic effect. Admiral's prerogative."

_"Admiral?"_ Kaidan yells. _"Admiral, do you copy?"_

I grin and Admiral Hackett wheels me into view. There's no delay with QEC comms, so I get to enjoy Kaidan's reaction in real-time from a third of the galaxy away. He actually steps back, and the sight of his jaw dropping is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life.

_"Shepard?"_ His voice is shaking.

"Hey, Kaidan."

He runs both of his hands over his hair and around the back of his neck, face instantly contorting into sobs and relief. But whatever he says is drowned out by screaming cheers behind him. And then he's practically thrown out of view by Joker, Traynor, and Tali.

I can tell Tali is talking a click a minute but I only catch one out of every five words because Joker is shouting, "You did it! You fucking did it!!!" over and over, drowning her out. Traynor just has a look of complete gratitude on her face, and then she pulls Kaidan back into view. He's full-on bawling - zero decorum, zero shame. I love him so fucking much for it.

Traynor pushes a still screaming and hopping Joker out of the way and Garrus squeezes in. He says something about finally being the better looking one again, and we're all in tears laughing. Or just in tears period. A hand appears on Tali's shoulder, and she switches with Liara who has the wildest manic grin I've ever seen on an asari. She opens her mouth to say something, but Joker yells something over the intercom in the back and I finally have to raise my hands to get a word in.

"Someone shut Joker up for five seconds!" I laugh. It almost sets them off again. "First things first, _Commander_ Alenko, I love you and I miss you so much." Garrus pats him on the shoulder and he tells me he loves me too. We'll need more time to talk later as soon as we can get rid of the rest of them. "Second, I heard a rumor about some badass space pirate wandering the Attican Traverse. Goes by the name Admiral Tali'Zorah vas Normandy? Might need to watch out for her." More raucous cheering. "Third, I'm doing alright. It's a long story and I know I look like shit, but I'm in good hands here. Fourth, don't rush getting back. I know that's a tall order, but do things by our book and make sure you're all safe. Understood?"

Nods and words of assent. "Good," I say. "Alright, Specialist Traynor. Would you please patch this over the intercom?"

She nods, ducks out of the picture, and then flashes me a thumbs up.

"Crew of the _Normandy_ , this is Commander Shepard. I'm alive and well; the Reapers are gone; and we're bringing you home. On behalf of myself, Admiral Hackett, the Alliance, and the united fleets of the galaxy, this is the happiest goddamn day of my life."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shepard's ongoing fight with the Catalyst is one of the first things I imagined when brainstorming this epilogue fic. I attempted to answer a few of the burning questions the ending of ME3 left us with, and I've got a few more surprises ahead on that front. Ultimately, though, my goal was not to fix the ending as such or to make it so that Shepard's choice on the Crucible didn't have drastic consequences. He killed his darlings, and I stuck with him on that. And I'm not going to lie - things get worse for him before they get better.
> 
> As for Samara and Miranda, I can only blame myself. I consider each playthough of ME it's own little canon. So when something happens like missing the Paragon interrupt to save Samara or somehow leaving Sanctuary too long and getting Miranda killed, I don't go back to undo the mistake. (Although with Miranda in this instance I have literally no idea what happened. I've never lost her before to that bastard Kai Leng and her asshole father, may they rot in cyber hell). 
> 
> All that to say, thank you all so much for reading! Mad props to my artist in residence The Pixel Agora (https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/thepixelagora) for their BADASS artwork and for taking my own chapter in directions I didn't anticipate! Thanks, as always, to my ever-patient beta readers (even though one of them hates me forever for killing EDI. Dude, I'm SORRY!).


	8. Kaidan 3 - Promises to Keep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew of the Normandy has received word from Earth: Shepard is alive, and help is on its way. Now, as they work to repair the ship and prepare for their journey back, they can finally take a breath and take stock of their losses. And one crew member makes it clear they've already decided what they'll do once they return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Brief mention of self-harm and suicide; *NO* major or minor character deaths.

I wake gently, naturally - despite knowing it's early. Big change from the war and even the last few days. Granted, the bed in Shepard's cabin is a hell of a lot better than my bunk. I grin into my pillow, thinking about everything that happened last night after we finally made contact.

The few minutes I spent talking with Shepard alone were some of the happiest of my life. Granted, it took almost an hour to clear out the War Room first. Once Joker made his announcement over the intercom that he was alive and Shepard made his little "I'm back" speech, every single crew member of the ship rushed up to get a few words in. Classic _Normandy_. Specialist Traynor ended up having to use Glyph as a timer to limit everyone so we wouldn't keep Shepard up all night. Vega and Cortez got there first, and once they got to say hello to Shepard they spread the word about gathering on Crew for a party. After they told the engineering team, it was all over. There is not a single drop of alcohol left on this ship. Wasn't _quite_ as wild as our Citadel party, but still a good time. 

The command crew, squad, whatever you want to call us, stuck around the QEC a little longer. We managed to send some data caches back and forth with Admiral Hackett to update each other on everything that happened since the final battle began. It hurt hearing that Admiral Anderson didn’t make it, and it shocked all of us to learn that the geth were also destroyed in the blast. Tali took it hardest after everything she and Shepard did to bring peace between them and the quarians. It was hard to tell how Joker took the news, whether it made EDI’s death make more sense or less. From what I’ve gathered, he hasn’t really talked to anyone her yet. I need to find him later today and check in. Everyone finally left me alone down there, and Shepard asked the Admiral for a few minutes of privacy. Admiral Hackett didn’t think anything of it, which makes sense since he should already have known. I submitted my mutual notification report after Shepard and I talked for the first time on the Citadel and decided to be together. Must’ve gotten mixed up in the war effort. But that didn’t matter once we were alone. I didn’t even know what to say at first.

 _“You alright, Kaidan?”_ he asked me. I could barely pull myself together.

“Yeah, I - I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. God, I’m sorry, I’m _so sorry_ ,” I cried softly.

 _“Sorry you almost got crushed by a tank? Shit, Kaidan, we’re gonna need to get you over that fast,”_ he said. _“If anything, we should bring Harbinger back just so we can kill it ourselves for splitting us up.”_

I chuckled a little before my voice cracked. “You shouldn’t have had to go on alone. I tried to get Joker to bring the ship around. We should have sent another squad down with you, called in another team, done _something_.”

 _“Kaidan, hey, look at me,”_ he said. It was hard to look at him, hard to see him so hurt and not be able to hold him. One of the caches we received has his full medical status. I might look at it later. Or not. _“I wouldn’t have even gotten to the Conduit without you. And if you’d gone with me, a dozen other things could have gone wrong. Harbinger might have killed you or the Illusive Man would have forced me to - ”_

He fell silent and held his head in his hands.

“Shepard? Are you alright? What happened?”

He took a shuddering breath and looked around before continuing. _“Kaidan, there’s - more that happened. Things I can’t really talk about over the comms. About Anderson. He was there with me, and he - well now you know that he didn’t make it.”_

“Oh, God, _Shepard_. Oh, Shepard, I’m so sorry.”

“ _Kaidan, he died right next to me. I could barely go on after that. If it had been you, I don’t think I could have.”_

The revelation stunned me. Admiral Anderson was practically a father to him. He was always in Shepard’s corner, no matter what was going on with the Council or High Command or anything else. My hatred for the Illusive Man and the Reapers spiked. But there was something in Shepard’s eyes, a shadow I didn’t like at all. And I know him well enough to know when he’s holding something back.

“More happened up there, didn’t it?” I asked quietly. “Something bad?”

Shepard just nodded, and I knew I couldn’t push farther.

“Will you tell me when I get back?”

He nodded again. _“Yeah, Kaidan, I will. I promise. But I’ll need you here - with me - before I can go through it all again.”_

“Whenever you’re ready, Shepard, I understand,” I said, and I do. My heart aches being so far from him right now. I always knew one or both of us might die, but I never imagined us winning and then being separated like this.

_“How bad were you hurt?”_

“Uh,” I started and then had to stop to wipe away fresh tears and blow my nose. “Pretty bad. Punctured lung courtesy of a titanium rod. Three broken ribs, two fractured. Bruised liver. Second- and third-degree burns covering about sixty percent of my upper body. You know, fun stuff. Nothing Chakwas couldn’t handle. They’re taking care of you alright?”

He laughed a little. _“Yeah, Hackett has a team of twenty doctors assigned to me. I know exactly two of their names. I’ve been out cold most of the time since they got me. But I’m feeling better, still kind of in shock. I don’t think it’s really hit me yet.”_

“Me neither,” I said. “It’s just - huge. It almost doesn’t feel real. I mean, _none_ of it. We’ve been fighting for this day for so long and now that it’s here, it feels like it all happened to other people.”

 _“I feel that,”_ he said, nodding. _“Hackett hasn’t told me many details about what’s happening, and I kind of want to keep it that way for a bit. You know, just to rest up some more before having to do anything. I’m sure someone needs something directly from me that no one else in the galaxy can get.”_

I laughed. “Yeah, that tends to happen with you.”

 _“Really, the only thing I need right now is you in my arms again,”_ he said. _“I miss you so damn much.”_

“I miss you, too,” I said. “And Shepard? I - do you remember what you told me in London before I left?”

He didn’t hesitate. _“Yeah, Kaidan. I do.”_

“You meant it, right? You weren’t just saying it because, you know, we were all about to die?” 

He smiled. It was sort of crooked and restrained at first, and then it lit up his face. Every part of it could see was dead certain. _“I did, Kaidan. I mean it. I love you, and I always will.”_

“Good, that’s good,” I whispered. My tears start again, but this time out of happiness. “And I love you, too. More than I’ve said before. You’re the best part of my life.”

 _“And that makes me so happy,”_ he said. My line from the Citadel. _“And, Kaidan, I’ve been wanting to ask. Will you - ”_

“ _John Anthony Shepard_ , don’t you _dare_ finish that sentence over the QEC!” I hissed at him. And the bastard laughed in my face. “Oh, you’d better be serious. If you’re not, I don’t care how many doctors you have because even five Cerberus cells couldn’t put you back together.”

He raised his hands up in mock surrender, still laughing. _“Point taken, Commander, but you didn’t need to hit me with my middle name.”_

“You absolutely deserve it,” I shot back, my own grin breaking out again. Then he looked at me with such tenderness and longing that I knew what my answer would be. And judging from his look, he absolutely knew what my answer would be, too.

 _“Come back to me, Kaidan,”_ he said. _“We’ve got a life to plan and live together.”_

“Yes, we do,” I said. “And I can’t wait. I already lost you once, and I’m sure as hell never losing you again.”

After the party I decided to go up to his cabin. I hadn’t been able to bring myself to come here before we talked, and I slept better here last night than I ever have anywhere else on the ship. I’m lying on his bed, surrounded by his lingering scent, and it almost feels like he’s here with me. Like I’m home. It also makes my heart ache, being so far away. It’s so different than when he died during the Collector attack. Back then he was gone, completely out of reach. It took me a long time to deal with it. Soldiers aren’t supposed to get attached and sentimental - it gets us killed on the battlefield. Once Sovereign was defeated and the geth were pushed back, I was able to open myself up a little bit. But then the Collectors hit us, and I lost the most important person in my life. He never knew how much he meant to me, even back then. If I hadn’t been so nervous and self-conscious, I would’ve tried to start something so much earlier. We lost a lot of time. We could have had _so much more_ if we hadn’t fucked up Horizon; if I’d just trusted him or if he’d had more time to wrap his brain around what had happened. We owned up to our parts and hashed it out while he was in custody in Vancouver and again on the Citadel, so it’s water under the bridge.

Now he’s alive and I’m alive and the Reapers are dust but we’re lightyears away.

I roll over and look up out of the ceiling viewport. It’s strange seeing a glowing red sunrise and billowing clouds instead of the usual stars and eezo glow. It really is a new day for us. I sigh, content to lie here for a while longer daydreaming about our future. And like clockwork my datapad beeps.

“Shepard, we’re really going to need to get our own place,” I say to myself as I reach over to grab it. The flashing message is from Specialist Traynor to the command crew. _Progress update meeting from Engineering in twenty._

I set it back down and roll forward off the bed into a push-up position. I grunt from the effort. My arms are stiff and the skin across my torso pulls uncomfortably. I’m probably pushing my body too fast trying to recover. I don’t care. Now that I’m on my feet again I have way too much pent-up energy to stay still for long, and the only thing we can do right now is wait. I switch between sets of push-ups and sit-ups, which make my core hurt like hell, and then some basic positions of the asari equivalent of yoga without stopping for about twelve minutes straight. I’m winded by the end as I step in to take a quick shower before heading down. The steaming water means we’ve got enough power to run more sub-systems. That thought relieves some of my mental tension and the water takes care of some of the physical. I turn the water off, pat myself down, and let my L2 implant take care of my hair. Joker still doesn’t believe me that the static electricity from it is what does the heavy lifting of my hair styling.

I throw on my commando regs and head down to the crew deck. I can feel how different the atmosphere is the second I get there. The jovial conversations are accentuated by the clinking of utensils on metal bowls and plates. I haven’t heard anyone excited on this ship since before Thessia. Conversations were always muted after that and no one let their emotions run high outwardly for fear of insensitivity to others who might be grieving. It’s nice to hear such a change.

“Morning, everybody,” I say, coming around the corner and grabbing a free seat. I’m met with the classic grunts and muttered “g‘mornings” of varying degrees of hangovers. “Oh, come on, we didn’t have _that_ much to drink last night.”

“Speak for yourself, L2,” Vega says, rubbing his temples.

“That’s _Commander_ L2 to you, Lieutenant Commander Vega,” Doctor Chakwas says. She starts passing out aspirin tablets. “Enjoy these; we don’t have many left.”

“Is that a problem, Doctor?” I ask her. “How short are we on other supplies?”

“Oh, we’re fine if any of you needs surgical-strength medication,” she replies with a wink just for me. “However, Alliance naval regulations prevent me from distributing high dosage pain suppressants for poor life choices.”

More groans from around the table except from Tali who says, “Totally worth it.”

“I’m sorry, Admiral, I think I have to disagree,” Garrus says.

“You turians are always so bad at holding your liquor,” she responds.

“Perhaps Garrus missed it when you were having a difficult time holding your ‘emergency induction port’?” Liara suggests. She and I smile knowingly. It helps that our biotics help burn off alcohol faster. 

“Have I ever told you how much I don’t like you, Liara?’ Tali asks with absolutely no conviction and none of us is even remotely convinced. The engineering team and Joker come in to find us laughing and in good spirits.

"Can we interrupt?" Engineer Adams asks. 

"Mmmm," I say through a mouth full of food and I beckon them over. I stand up and turn my chair out so Joker can sit.

"Thanks, Kai - Major - _Commander_. Sorry," he says, wincing as he straightens one of his legs out under the table.

"You're good, Joker," I say. "Damn, ‘Commander’ sounds so weird. You know what? Standing order for all Alliance crew - it's 'Kaidan' or 'Alenko' or whatever the hell you want whenever it's just us on the _Normandy_ ; 'sir' only if you absolutely have to be formal. So none of this 'Commander' stuff unless the brass is here. Despite what Admiral Hackett said and my promotion, as far as I'm concerned there's only one commander of the _Normandy_ and he's recovering in orbit above Earth."

Nods and words of assent coupled with cups banging on the table go around. Good.

"Speaking of, Kaidan," Tali says. "I'm assuming my pirating days are over now that you've recovered?"

“That’s up to the good doctor,” I tell her.

“What did Admiral Hackett say?” Doctor Chakwas asks me.

" _Technically_ speaking, Admiral Hackett only transferred me. He didn't direct me to take full command of the ship even after I told him we'd elected Tali. I said it was part of Shepard's final directive for us, and he didn’t belay that. Since Admiral Hackett’s orders are to get back safely, however the _Normandy_ needs to make it happen, we should honor Shepard’s directive even though it ended up not being so final after all.”

“Very well, and are you feeling up to speed? What do you want, sir?”

I consider this and look back to Tali. “I want to honor the crew’s decision, and I’m not feeling quite back to normal yet. So let's keep working together, pirate and marine-turned-naval officer."

More cheers and cup-banging. God, this feels good after a week-and-a-half of such tense uncertainty.

"Thank you, Commander," Tali says. "Why don't you take the lead for this meeting."

"Thank you, Admiral,” I smile. “So, Engineer Adams, where are we with everything?”

"Well, sir, everyone, I'm happy to report that the drive core crossed the fifty percent threshold about an hour ago," he says. "Thanks to everyone here, we're well on our way to getting off of this damn rock."

"Don't sell yourselves short, Adams," Garrus says. I'm still not used to seeing him injured. "You, Daniels, and Donnelly deserve medals at the very least for getting everything running."

Each of us at the tables stands and applauds them. Adams looks even more disgruntled than normal. Probably hates the attention. Donnelly and Daniels look pretty pleased with themselves, though.

"Oh, believe me," I say. "I'm putting your names in for promotions and service commendations the second we finish here."

"D'you think we could get better mattresses in the crew quarters?" Donnelly asks Daniels loudly.

"Sanitation Specialist Donnelly," Adams barks. "Are you ever going to learn to shut that gab of yours?"

"Are you kidding me? Name it and I'll make it happen," I laugh. "Anything special for you, Adams?"

"No, thank you, sir," he says. "Now if we could finish our report?" Everyone settles down and he continues. "Following procedure, doing things by _our_ book that is, the core will be at one hundred percent in approximately fifty-nine hours - midnight two days from now. I'll want to run the core for another eight hours or so just to make sure everything is running smoothly before we take off."

"Tali, Joker, any objections?" I ask.

"What's our timeline for running all the subsystems between now and then?" Joker asks Adams.

"Faster than our standard schedule, but we'll still need all hands on it," Adams replies. "I'll send you an updated copy when we're done. And our apologies to Garrus, but without the cannons we're shaving a huge chunk of time off our prep work."

"Alright, if any of you need me I'll be up top sunbathing," Garrus says.

"Please, just make sure you're not on the viewport over the captain's cabin," I say. "I don't want to have to polish off a turian assprint up there."

"Oof, that's not a pretty picture, Commander L2," James says. "No offense, Scars."

"Speak for yourself, Vega," Tali cuts in before Garrus can retort.

That gets a laugh out of everyone. The constant ribbing has always been part of Alliance military life, moreso for us with all the shit we've been through.

"Tali, any other tech concerns?" I ask.

"None," she responds. "We're working beautifully together down there."

"Joker, anything else?"

"Nope, not much else I can do until we're in the last six hours or so of the warm-up," he says. "And, uh, could I say something else to the group?"

"Floor's yours," I say. He holds a hand out and I help him stand, then I step to the side.

"Thanks," he says to me and then positions himself more or less at the head of the table. "Right, so, I need to say this and get through it so no commentary from the gallery if you don't mind. I need to say I'm sorry, to all of you. I - I know I basically abandoned you guys after we crashed. It sure as hell wasn't professional, and it was a real shitty thing to do to my friends after everything we've been through.”

He pauses and scratches the back of his neck. "I, uh, was kinda a wreck after we left Earth and got here. Just, everything hit at once - not being able to get Shepard back, losing EDI, thinking I’d stranded us here. I couldn't handle it and I couldn't function. And yeah, I know we've all lost a lot of people and I know I'm not alone and any one of your would've helped me get through it and all that, but I needed to get my head back on straight. I've never been good at opening up to other people even when shit's hard. Like, couldn't get any worse, hard. But I swear I'm here now, anything you need. At least, uh, at least until we get back.”

He pauses again, working his jaw, and my stomach sinks. I don’t want him to say whatever it is he’s about to - 

“I'll get us home,” Joke says. “But I've made up my mind. When we get there, I'm going to resign my post. This'll be the last time I fly the _Normandy_ , maybe the last time I fly ever."

I think all of our hearts break when he says those words. The _Normandy_ without Joker? Has anyone else even actually flown it? I guess that one Cerberus bastard when Shepard's clone tried to steal it, but no. Joker was always the pilot even before any of us showed up when it was still then-Captain Anderson's baby. None of us says anything, waiting for him to finish. Maybe to even say he’s just bullshitting us. But he doesn't.

"Sorry, that's, well that's it," he says. He won't meet any of our eyes. And it's my responsibility to acknowledge what he said and let his decision stand.

"Joker, you got us through every single mission. Every damn one, and that's a helluva thing. Thank you."

He barely looks at me before snapping a hasty salute and leaving the table. The elevator opens and takes him up to the CIC.

"Well, that's that," Liara says sadly.

"Did any of you know?" I ask. Everyone sort of looks at each other but no one says anything.

"Commander Alenko, may I speak freely?" Doctor Chakwas asks.

"Always, Doctor."

"We - at least the command crew - should probably have a more frank conversation about what happened between leaving Earth and when Tali was elected leader. Things were bad; the closest this crew has ever come to completely falling apart. Without Commander Shepard here to lead and with you in recovery, there was no real direction or goal. Meaning no offense, Tali. Once you got things rolling, we got right back on track."

"No offense taken, Doctor," Tali says. "You're right, of course."

No one contradicts either of them. I consider this, not for the first time but in a different light. It's easier to look back now that I - we - have some light to illuminate our hindsight. I choose my next words carefully.

"Apologies for the turn of phrase, but we're only human - and asari and quarian and turian. We all have our limits, and those have been broken time and time again. I’m the first to admit that even if I hadn’t been injured but still had to say goodbye to Shepard like I did? I wouldn't have been able to function afterwards, either. I - God, when I woke up and we didn't know what had happened to him, it was like part of me died, too."

"Hey, Maj - Commander L2, can I jump in?" James asks. I just nod. "It’s not right what happened to Loco and Robocop. I mean, you know what I mean. You lost Loco, at least, you know, for a while. We all thought he was probably a goner. But yeah, like you said you weren't with him. Wings was right next to her when she died. I bolted for the cockpit right after we hit, and here he is trying to get her out of the copilot's chair. I said I'd help and he didn't even hear me. He tried to hit me when I reached for her. I had to, uh, choke hold him to get him to stop before he hurt himself. I figured there wasn’t a better spot for her than the AI room, so I carried her down there and then took him, too. Difference is, L2, sorry, _Commander_ , you got Loco back."

"Very true, James," Doctor Chakwas says. "Your honesty, and yours Commander, both needed to be said, and, frankly, those things still need to be said to Jeff. Regardless of whether or not he changes his mind, his pain and guilt need to be acknowledged."

"Ah, jeez, Doctor, I dunno if I'm the right guy," James says.

"No, James, she's right. Let's you and I hash this out and then figure out how to talk to Joker about it," I interrupt. I know it has to happen, but I'm dreading it. Shepard was always incredible at this sort of thing. I sigh and sit heavily. "We're all gonna need a whole lot of therapy once we're out of this."

"Hey, speaking of, maybe we should get Esteban in on this," James says. "I mean, he lost his husband and knows how to handle grief and bounce back."

"See? You're perfect for this, James. That's a wonderful idea," Liara says. "And Kaidan, if I may suggest something else?"

"You have the floor," I say wearily. I'm already exhausted from today.

"Specialist Traynor and I were speaking before. She went up to Shepard's cabin to check on his animals and, well, to carry out her duties in the event of the commanding officer's death." 

I nod along. Traynor would have had a procedure to box up his personal effects, check his datapad and messages for any crucial information that needed to be passed on or encrypted, and about a dozen other things.

"Well," Liara continued. "She found a memorial plaque with Shepard's name on it. She checked the logs of the fabricator. Actually, I helped her hack them because he made it himself and erased the record of it."

 _He did it so we wouldn't have to. Fucking hell, Shepard._ Things were so much worse than I thought.

"I'm sorry, let me get to the point," she says. "Now that we know he's not dead, we obviously don't need the plaque but as Doctor Chakwas said, we do need to acknowledge the grief that's present."

"A memorial service for EDI," I say.

Liara nods. "Yes, for her and Admiral Anderson. I know it's complicated because Shepard will want to say goodbye to them as well, but at least if we do something here before we leave it won't be hanging over us for however long it takes to get back to Earth."

"That is an excellent idea, Liara," Doctor Chakwas says. "It would be good for all of us, Commander. Perhaps we might even take a moment then to recognize Shepard’s and their sacrifices and all that we still have because of them."

"I agree. Keeping a holistic perspective," Garrus says and Tali nods her assent.

"Alright," I say. "Let's set it for closer to when we leave, however our final prep allows. We do still have a lot of work to do, unless anyone has a good reason for it happen sooner?"

"No," Adams says. "As hard as it is, it needs to wait until we're ready to leave. There are still a dozen things that can go wrong between now and then if we don't stay on top of repairs. Plus it gives people some time to think of things to say."

"So that's settled," I say. "Pirate Admiral Tali, anything to add?"

"I don't think so," she says. "Except, as hard as it's been and as hard as it is, I'm very happy for you personally."

"Yes, you and Shepard deserve a happy ending," Liara says.

"Yes, just make sure to milk the fame for all it's worth," Garrus says. "Oh, like R&D for a sniper rifle arm. You know, to make up for losing my favorite gun and favorite arm back on Earth? And for losing my cannons."

I snort and clap him on the back. "Thank you. All of you," I say. Even though it seems I'm finally cried-out, I can't find any other words to say. At least for now. "We’ll reconvene at 1900 after dinner. Alright, let's go and make this happen."

And so we disperse to our different jobs per Adams's schedule. Traynor and I spend the rest of the morning up in Shepard’s cabin going through her procedure list for transferring command from him to me. Well, getting me access to whatever we can. We can’t access some encrypted data without him, but we work with what we can. We follow up on dozens and dozens of outdated aid requests, passing them along in a data cache back to the turian flagship which has remained in constant communication with us since yesterday. It’s probably too late for most of them already, and with the Relay network down it could be months before the rest are helped. The death toll is going to continue to rise. It’s infuriating. 

We’re also starting to get a better sense of how the galaxy as a whole fared. When the Reapers first hit, the batarians were decimated and all but made extinct. And now it looks like the same thing happened to the volus, elcor, and hanar. It’s going to take a long time for their species to recover, and even then they might not have viable population diversity and numbers. The salarians are embroiled in hotly contested elections and social upheaval. Dalatrass Linron was deposed in their species’ first political coup in a millennia. Serves her right after conditioning their support on krogran extermination. Sur'kesh was essentially razed to the ground, and they’re all concentrated on one of their colony worlds for now. We’re interrupted by a shipwide announcement at noon - drive core at fifty-five percent, right on schedule .

“I think I’d prefer if Adams didn’t send these messages every six hours,” I say. “The anticipation is killing me.”

“I completely agree, Major - Commander, excuse me,” Traynor says. “I’m sorry. It always takes me a while to get someone’s rank right when they’ve been promoted.”

“And that’s why ‘sir’ or ‘Kaidan’ is completely fine by me,” I smile. “Honestly, I’d prefer it over ‘Commander.’ Should we go down for lunch?”

“Yes, sir. And if I’m continuing on either of your or Commander Shepard’s staff, please call me Sam.” I nod and we go down. Doctor Chakwas is waiting for me.

“Commander, a moment, please,” she says. “I told them to save you a plate.”

“I’ll catch up with you later this afternoon, Sam,” I say and then follow Doctor Chakwas into the med bay. “So, what’s up, Doc?”

Ok, terrible choice of words. If she wore glasses, she’d be staring daggers at me over the rims. “I charge one-hundred credits for every time someone quips that at me, regardless of rank.”

“And I’ll transfer them to your account as soon as we get reconnected to the extranet,” I acknowledge apologetically.

“I’ll hold you to that, Commander. Take a seat,” she says and I comply. She lowers the bed and swings her chair around to sit in front of me. “Tell me - how are you feeling?”

“The last few days have been a lot,” I admit with a laugh. “That’s an understatement if there ever was one.”

“Certainly,” she says. “And arguably it’s been harder on you with the emotional upheaval jumping from despair and uncertainty to relief and exuberance.”

“Is that particularly unhealthy?” I ask.

“It can be,” she answers. “The drop down from such an emotional high can have extremely adverse effects on your mental state, and it may be delayed and strike out of nowhere.”

“Like coming down from an adrenaline high after a battle.”

“Similar, yes. If something minor were to delay us, it could be expressed as extreme frustration and anger, and it can severely hamper your ability to make responsible, logical choices,” she says. “I only cleared you for duty a few days ago so we could jump the drive. So, for that reason, I believe you’ve made a wise decision to continue to share command responsibilities with Tali until we return. I also believe you should defer to her if major issues arise between now and then. Think of it as probationary command, alright?”

“Yes, ma’am, I understand,” I say. “Thank you.”

“And one last thing before you go,” she starts. “Did you review the cache Admiral Hackett sent with Commander Shepard’s medical status?”

I shake my head. “He, uh, looked bad but at least he’s up and moving. I didn’t want to ruin the moment by asking too many questions. I figured that if there were something imminently fatal then he would have told me.”

“And there’s the potentially compromised higher thinking I mentioned,” she says. “You’re both trying to protect each other. It’s perfectly understandable given your emotional investment in your relationship, but it’s far from being logically sound for a commander. You understand that I’m not passing judgment on the relationship itself, yes?”

“No, I understand, Doctor,” I respond. “And you’re right. So can we address this by being brutally honest and examining the objective facts starting with his medical status?”

“At the risk of exacerbating your emotional swings, yes, that’s exactly what we need to do,” she says. “It is my medical opinion that you need to know exactly what to expect when we return, or as nearly as I can explain his changing health. I need to forewarn you that however good he seemed to be doing when you spoke, he is still in severely critical condition.”

I take a deep breath, “Alright, Doctor, hit me.” 

And then my lungs feel like they’re closing up when she says that when he was recovered from the Crucible he was fighting off Indoctrination; that he was being driven to suicide by the lingering corruption of some Reaper force which they couldn’t really identify or pinpoint beyond it having hijacked his neural implants; that the only way to save him was to remove those implants and catastrophically limit his future as a soldier. And then she explains the widespread cancer - bone, lung, liver, blood, stomach - though fortunately it spared his brain. I can’t stop thinking about how the man should be dead by all accounts. Every one of those things is being successfully treated and there’s no way they’re going to let him die from such anachronistic diseases. Even so, without the presence and assistance of those implants, his full recovery is going to stretch weeks and probably months. It takes her a full hour to walk me through everything.

“Are you doing alright?” she asks me. I just nod. “Commander, I need you to tell me that you understand everything and that you’re alright.”

I clear my throat. “Yes, Doctor, I understand everything. I’m okay. It’s just, it’s hard to get myself to believe that he really will be alright knowing all of that. They’re sure, I mean _absolutely_ sure that he’ll be okay?”

“Now that the Indoctrination has been stopped, they’re able to hit him with everything they’ve got. They’ve successfully cloned and grown several replacement organs, and his operations will take place over the next few weeks. His prognosis is good, but as I said it’s going to take him a long time to fully recover. Though it will do him a world of good to have you at his side again.” She smiles and takes my hand.

"Do you think he'll be different?" I whisper. Even though I spoke with him less than twelve hours ago, I'm terrified of the answer.

She takes a moment to answer. "He may be. Trauma changes the very nature of the brain. You should be prepared for some changes in mood and behavior, especially in the beginning. But it can be mitigated and healed. It's safe to assume his physical recovery will be significantly shorter than his mental recovery. That itself may be the hardest thing you two have to face. If you're going to be with him, you'll have to find a way to help him navigate all of that while learning to cope yourself.”

“I’m alright,” I say automatically. It’s a mistake.

“Kaidan,” Chakwas says. “We’ve just survived a galactic apocalypse. None of us is ‘alright.’ And you almost lost the man you love _again_. So please, for all our sakes, don’t lie to me.”

I nod and apologize. She takes my hand. “I do, however, have complete faith that you're more than a match for the task."

“You think so? I don't even know where to start with something so huge,” I say. My old doubts and insecurities return. God, I'm glad I didn't know any of this before talking to him.

“The best thing you'll be able to do at first is to listen. Listen, and offer no retorts or advice. Let him speak however he needs to so he can get it all off his chest. You’ll be able to work through it with him. I believe you’re the perfect person to help nurse him back to health,” she says. “And, if you’ll allow me a moment of impropriety, it is my personal opinion that you’re the best damn thing that’s ever happened to each other. So don’t let him or anyone else ever tell you differently.”

I smile. It’s a little weird talking about him so freely with everyone. Now, it wasn’t exactly hidden before, but we maintained a certain professional distance between us and the crew. Granted, it’s not that big of a ship and everyone definitely knew, we just didn’t talk about it in the open. And then the question he almost asked me last night...

“Commander?” She breaks me out of my reverie with a raised eyebrow and expectant smile.

“I’m sorry, I was just thinking about, well, him - us,” I say, also smiling again.

“I was always rooting for the two of you,” she says. I look up at her in amazement, and then she stands and hugs me.

“Thank you, Doctor,” I say, tears gathering in my eyes. “So much, for everything you’ve done for us.”

She breaks away and cups my cheek, brushing a tear aside. “You two are going to be just fine. And my advice, if I may, is to stop overthinking as best you can. Just keep your focus, and we’ll be home soon enough.”

I whisper another thanks and then head out. Everyone else left in the meantime, anxious, I suppose, to get back to work and get us flying again. The afternoon and evening pass without incident. I visit pretty much everybody. Liara is trying to reestablish her Shadow Broker connections. Garrus is putting what's left of the cannons back together. Tali is engrossed in systems testing with the rest of engineering. James and Steve are using our temporary crew additions to rearrange the entire cargo hold. I help them out for a little while using my biotics for some of the heavy lifting until I'm tired again. I hop up on some crates and lean back against the shuttle, watching James challenge the troops to beat his record for different exercises - push-ups and pull-ups and lunging sprints across the deck. I'm exhausted just watching them. I don't realize I've been napping until Adams voice scratches over the intercom. 1800. The core is at sixty percent; no issues whatsoever.

Dinner is quiet. Everyone is ready to stop for the day and get some quiet and rest, but we still have a command meeting after. Steve is here at my request, but Joker doesn’t show up. Sam says he's back in the AI core. James, Steve, and I agree to go speak with him after the meeting. We spend the rest of the time compiling our accounts of the battle from the moment we entered Sol until the moment we left it. Some of our accounts are shorter than others, such as mine, and Sam records all of them for posterity to make sure we agree on the order of events when we end up making our report to Admiral Hackett. It's rough hearing about how everyone was feeling while it happened. Guess I was lucky to be unconscious. It takes almost two hours to get through everything before we finally call it an evening.

After everyone leaves, James and I call Steve up. The three of us talk for just a few minutes, discussing who's going to say what exactly and how we'll support each other, and then we head to the AI core.

I chime the door. "Joker, it's me. I've got James and Steve here. We want to make sure you're alright."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oi, I cannot tell you how much of a relief it was for me to write the opening convo between Shepard and Kaidan (and to finally share it now). Even separated, at least they know the other made it out. And as I hinted repeatedly, they're going to have a lot to work through once the Normandy gets back to Earth.
> 
> Shout out to my betas for being generally awesome!


	9. Joker 2 - The Parting Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joker sinks further into his own grief even as the rest of the Normandy's crew celebrates the news of the galaxy's liberation from the Reapers and Commander Shepard's survival. And after he announces that he's resigning his post when they return to Earth, those he's served with try to understand why - and struggle to ensure he can still get them home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Intense grief
> 
> My apologies for the longer wait on this chapter. It ended up getting a massive overhaul and got delayed multiple times. This chapter along with the next two form a triplet of sorts recounting the Normandy's journey home. Those will hopefully both get posted later this week! 
> 
>   
> 

* * *

I’d been sitting on my decision for a few days before I dropped my bomb at the crew meeting. It was pretty much set in stone the second I heard Kaidan screaming. I caused that. It’s the only thing I could think about after. _I did that_. I wasn’t good enough in the end. It was the darkest time of my life, those next few days before the _Normandy_ came back to life. Didn’t matter that our crew had designated Shepard MIA. Doesn’t even matter now that he made it. We knew enough about the Crucible’s blast that there was no way he could have survived. That’s what I told myself anyway. Then we made contact with Hackett and Shepard turned up alive, and I thought, hey, maybe I wasn’t a total fuckup during the battle after all. I celebrated alongside everyone else that night, and I left thinking maybe I’d jumped the gun.

But then I got back to the AI core and saw EDI again. I broke down and spent most of the night crying. When I finally fell asleep, I dreamed about me and her in the cockpit, together again. No matter what I did I couldn’t get her to answer me, and then Shepard showed up and I screamed myself hoarse at him for not being fast enough, for not doing good enough. He didn’t answer either, and I woke up in a cold sweat. And that was it. I knew right then that the _Normandy_ would never be the same for me again, no matter how much I wanted it to be. And it sucks. I hate it, I really do. Telling everyone this morning that I wasn’t going to be a pilot anymore was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. Well, I guess telling Shepard will be worse.

I’m not surprised when a whole troop of them show up at the AI core that evening. I probably screwed up and scared a lot of them when I said what I did and then bolted. I checked in with Adams to check on some of the updates throughout the day and called it good. With more power available, I ran through as many basic diagnostics on EDI as I could remember. None of them did jack shit, and I hate that I wasn’t surprised. Once the last one failed and the door chimed a few minutes later, I decided I might even be ready to talk.

"Joker, it's me. I've got James and Steve here. We want to make sure you're alright,” Kaidan says from the other side.

I get up and walk over to it, suddenly embarrassed by the state of the room. There are empty food and drink canisters piled in the far corner. I’d have put EDI up on the table in the back, but I couldn’t lift her by myself so she’s lying in the middle of the deck with her arms folded over her chest. Then I realize that this isn’t - wasn’t - the nerve center of the most advanced starship in history. It’s a tomb, a crypt. And I’m haunting it. No, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to come back on board once I leave. I dim the lights and open the door part-way, trying to block as much as I can.

"Hey, Jeff," Steve says. "Mind if we stay and talk a bit?"

"Yeah, sure, but if we’re gonna do this can we do it somewhere - not here?" I ask.

“Sure thing,” Kaidan says. “We’ve still got about an hour of daylight out there, and the perimeter is secure. Can we go for a walk?”

I'm not exactly thrilled with the idea. But considering there's three of them and Kaidan's built like a tree and James is a damn titan, I don't really have much of a choice. Steve claps my shoulder when I follow, and we head up to the CIC and out the forward hatch. It’s an awkward step down for me with the weird incline of the ship being on a hill and the ramp being off kilter, but I manage alright. The karst formations out in the ocean are silhouetted by blazing orange clouds and binary moons. Can’t say it’s not pretty, at least.

“Couldn’t have parked us closer to the beach, huh, Wings?” James asks.

I don’t laugh and I think I hear Steve smack his shoulder. “Sorry, ending up on a planet with breathable atmo’s the best I could do. Maybe next crash landing, though.”

“You did good for us, Joker,” Kaidan says quickly. “And we - ”

“EDI did good for us. All I did was stop us from crashing into the damn thing.”

Kaidan dips his head. "Still damn good flying. We owe you everything.” He waits, scratching the back of his head, then says, “Joker, we wanted to - ”

“Right, let's get something straight here,” I interrupt. “I know an ambush when I’ve tripped face-first into one, and I’m not in the mood to play any games. You came to get me because of what I said this morning, so let’s just get on with it, alright?”

I’m not helping the guy. I’m not feeling particularly gracious right now with any of this. Sure as hell don’t deserve any other recognition after abandoning them when we crashed.

"No games," Steve insists. "The four of us have always gotten on pretty well, and we want to make sure you're okay after everything that's happened."

"Yeah, fantastic is how I'm doing. So let's hear it. Why should I keep my posting after we get back to Earth?"

Kaidan holds his hands up a little bit. "Let's take a few steps back here. We’re still a ways out from that.”

"Kaidan - Commander - you can't stand there and tell me to my face that this isn't about the meeting," I say. "I appreciate the effort, but I'm not going to change my mind.”

"I’m not here to do that. I respect you enough to know when you have good reasons to do something and we’ll work out the details later, but first - shit, I’m doing this wrong,” Kaidan pauses, looking out at the horizon and back to me again. “Joker, I screwed up by not checking in with you earlier. Even though things have been pretty crazy, I should have made more of an effort. So, I’m sorry. And now this, uh, really should be two conversations but here we are. I need to know how you’re doing - as your technical CO because we’ve still got a tough mission here, _and_ as your friend.”

“Alright, so which of these conversations are we having right now? CO or friend? Are you pulling rank or are we shooting the shit? Because you sure as hell don’t know how to do both.”

James shifts on his feet and Steve crosses his arms as Kaidan takes a deep breath. “You're right. I'm not Shepard, and I'm not pretending otherwise. So let's start with the easy part. I _am_ sorry I didn’t make more of an effort with you the last few days. That’s on me.”

“As a friend, or…?”

“As both, Joker,” he sighs. “I’m apologizing on both counts.”

“And you’re trying to figure out if I’m good to fly or if I’ll be a problem.”

Kaidan’s jaw sets. “Yeah, that too, and - ”

“Fair enough.” I turn to Steve and James. “What about you guys? I get why he’s here, but where do you fit into this?”

“We're worried about you, Wings," James says.

“You really don't need to be. I’m fine.”

“Yeah, I know that 'fine’,” Steve says. “I said it a lot after Robert died.”

Oof. Low blow. It's a nice angle, bringing Steve along to talk about that. Very Shepard of them.

"Look, guys, I appreciate the effort. I do. I know you're looking out for me. But honestly this is really transparent. Like, pathetically obvious."

"Yeah, we know," James says. "We didn’t have much of a choice though since you've already made up your mind. And that's cool. It's your life, man. We're just trying to understand why."

I sit on the edge of a rock and look back at the ship. "I’m tired, guys. I'm just - done.”

“Burned out?” Steve asks.

“No,” I shake my head. “I’ve been burned out before. That’s nothing some R&R can’t take care of. This is different. This - ” I pause. “I was never supposed to be a pilot. I mean, I was never supposed to be much of anything, but least of all a pilot. The Alliance recruiter laughed in my face when I showed up on my sixteenth birthday in leg braces saying I wanted to sign up for flight academy. My disease made me a terrible candidate, he said. I wouldn’t be able to handle the stress of the schedule. I wouldn’t be able to handle the G’s of the training ships, the physical conditioning, the blah blah blah.”

“You know, I’ve never heard this story,” Kaidan says. “You obviously did something to change his mind.”

“When I left, I stole his skycar right out front. He came out screaming and someone else called local security on me. I led them on a chase around those few blocks and made sure that asshole could see me. I lapped the security shuttles a few times, dove over buildings and weaved under bridges. When the skycar’s engine started flirting with red, I landed right back where I started to the inch. You could have flown a turian cruiser through his gaping mouth. When security finally caught up to me he sent them away, saying he’d asked me for a quick demonstration of my skills and that they were looking at the Alliance’s next great pilot. And why reinvent the Relay? Same trick is what got me this gig with Anderson. Flying has always been so exciting, made me feel so alive. Like I could do anything, like I was making my family proud and most importantly making myself proud. I proved to myself that I was more than anyone, everyone ever expected.”

I tear my eyes away from the Normandy and look back at them. “Guys, that feeling got me through everything. _Everything_. Even when the Collectors blew up the SR-1. But all of that started to die the second I left Shepard behind - when we left Earth - when the blast killed EDI. And it’s gone now. Gone like it never even existed. Without that feeling, that life, being a pilot just doesn’t make any sense now.”

“Hey, man, I get it,” Steve says. “When Robert died, I shut down. Nothing felt the same. I really didn’t want to do anything with my life.”

“It’s not about EDI.”

“It’s a little about EDI,” James counters. “I didn’t tell you yet that I was the one who brought you two out of the helm.”

“I don’t remember what happened,” I say truthfully.

“You weren’t doing well, man,” James tells me. “You sorta had this blank look on your face and you were trying to move her and get her down from her seat. Now I know we’re not supposed to talk about ladies like this, but being a super mech she’s not exactly a lightweight, you get me?”

“Then what?”

“I, uh, made you sit down so I could bring her back to the AI core and then I got you,” he says, shifting his feet.

“Thanks for that,” I say dryly.

Really, what else is there to say? _Thanks for stopping me from shattering a femur trying to carry my cyborg girlfriend?_

“Hey, no sweat, Wings. Figured you’d need some space. I know I did after losing everyone at Fehl Prime.”

_Shit,_ that _story. The three of us could start a club for terminal cases of the emotionally-damaged._

I turn and look directly at Kaidan. “I heard you when you woke up and found out we didn’t know what happened to Shepard. That’s when I made my decision. I couldn’t handle being the cause of that pain. Not again.”

Kaidan gapes, I guess finally putting two and two together, and then shakes his head. “Is _that_ what - Jesus, this wasn’t another Alchera.”

“No? Sure as hell felt like I’d fucked you out of your cosmic do-over.”

“What happened with the Citadel wasn’t your fault, Joker! Liara told me everything. She told me you tried to get to him, that you fought until the absolute last second even with Harbinger gunning for us. If Shepard _had_ died it wouldn’t have been because of you, and you saved the rest of us by leaving. You’re not guilty of shit.”

I snort. “Not this time, you mean. Sure is a relief that my record’s not two-for-two.”

“That’s absolutely _not_ what I meant, and - ” Kaidan cuts himself off when James puts a hand on his shoulder.

“C’mon, L2, Wings, let’s not ramp things up here.”

“Stay out of it, Vega. If he has something to say, then - ”

“Joker, listen,” Steve interrupts me. “We got the report from Admiral Hackett. It took the SAR team almost twenty minutes to get to the control center and cut through the viewport to extract him. Yeah, we may have been close but we never, _never_ could have gotten him out before it fired. Unless you’ve been holding out on us and know how to stop time, it was flat out fucking impossible. Unforgiving physics are one thing we pilots know a damn share more about than most.”

“Is that how you dealt with not being able to save Robert?” I spit. I’m hurting them. That's not me. I'm not that guy. Right now I don’t care.

“Yeah, Jeff, that’s exactly what I told myself to get my ass moving again.” Steve's voice stays even, soft but firm. It pisses me off even more. “And what Commander Shepard told Kaidan to get him to leave London? Robert told me the same fucking thing. When the Collectors hit our colony, he told me to get out of there so I wouldn’t die, too. He told me to leave him and he was right. I couldn’t have saved him any more than Kaidan could have helped the Commander, any more than you could have gotten him off of the Citadel.”

In the split second he takes a breath I know what he’s about to say and I start to snap. “Any more than you could have saved EDI from the blast.”

I swing at him, howling. Stupid decision, since I’ll shatter my fist. Steve steps back and I miss by a mile. My punch throws me off balance, but before I fall James and Kaidan step around Steve and catch my arms. At that point I’m pretty much helpless.

Steve’s words break through my shields and reverberate around my skull. Only another pilot could have gotten through to me like this. It’s our worst fear realized - the moment when we do absolutely everything right and the universe still fucks us over. The void EDI left opens wide and my knees buckle.

“It hurts,” I sob. “It hurts so fucking much!”

“Yeah, it’ll be like that for a long time,” Steve says softly, kneeling and waving the others back.

“When does it stop?” I gasp. I’m drowning and now I wish they hadn’t let go of my arms. “Forget about moving on, it fucking hurts to even be _awake_ right now. Please just tell me when it stops.”

“I don’t know,” Steve says. “Some days I’m still in it. It’s gotten better, especially since the Commander talked to me and got me to say goodbye, to finally let Robert go.”

I shake my head. “I can’t. I can't let her go.”

“Maybe not yet,” Steve nods. “Probably not for a long time. And that’s okay,. No one can tell you when. But eventually you’ll have to make the choice to do it. Robert told me not to make him an anchor, but that's exactly what I did. I held on to him even as I was sinking and the water was going over my head, slowly killing me. Letting go and coming up for air was the hardest, scariest thing I’ve ever done in my life. But I had to. For a while I thought the Commander was being cruel, making me think about what I was really doing to myself, forcing me to decide whether I would truly live or not. Of course he was nicer about it than I’m being right now. Or maybe he was scared he was being too hard on me. Doesn’t matter at this point; he was right.”

“How? How did you get through it? And how are you okay now?”

“Barely, that’s how,” Steve says. “Then again, I've had more time to cope. And I’ve gotten good at faking it until it feels farther away. Somehow that actually helps. You’ll get there, Jeff. It’s hell going and hell when you get there. You’ll feel like shit the whole way and after. I can’t get you to believe me now, but it gets easier. It does, just a little at a time. And then you’ll feel like you slide back months’ worth of time when you find or see something that reminds you of her. But you’ll get there.”

"And what if I don't? What if I can't?"

"You won't do it on your own," Steve says. "No one does it alone. I never would have done it without the Commander's help."

"What did he do?"

"He listened, first and foremost. Whatever I needed to get off my chest he was there, no judgements. He made me take shore leave when I was working to death trying to distract myself. And then he went with me to say my final goodbye. See, when the Reapers hit Earth I snagged my datapad from my quarters when I ran. It had a recording of our last conversation, right before Robert was killed. That's what I held on to. Shepard went with me to one of the memorial walls on the Citadel and stood vigil with me until I was ready to give it up. I guess it's probably gone for good now, even if I ever wanted to change my mind."

I don't say anything back. I whip my hat off, crushing it in one hand, and running the other through my hair. I wish they weren’t here looking at me, seeing me like this. Steve puts his hand on my shoulder.

“This is too fresh, Jeff, too soon to be able to see out of it. Believe me, I know. So I'm here, anytime you need to talk. Whether that's here on the _Normandy_ or after. I'm serious. We all are."

Kaidan and James echo him, and I nod."Yeah, I know. Thanks."

"Alright," he says. "So, uh, we also need to tell you that we're going to have a memorial service for EDI and Admiral Anderson before we leave. We're still figuring out exactly when, but I'll let you know early. Tali offered to say some words for EDI if you're not up for it."

"No, I'll, uh, figure something out," is all I manage to cough out.

“Alright," Steve says, standing. He offers his hand and I let him help me up. "And will you do something for me?"

I look over at him.

"Promise me you'll talk to Shepard about this, no matter what you decide in the end?"

All I can do is nod and watch the sun sink below the horizon.

* * *

After we re-enter the _Normandy_ , Steve and Kaidan split off to finish up reports and James walks me back down to the medbay and AI core. Even though it’s getting toward third shift, Chakwas is still there. She nods to us when we come in.

“It’s good to see you out and about, Jeff,” she says.

“Yeah, who knew fresh air would be good for me after - yeah, let’s not think about how long it’s been.”

“Indeed. I believe at this point it would be better if you returned to the crew quarters.”

“Yeah, Wings,” James says. “Holing yourself up in here can’t have been - ”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” I interrupt with a sigh. “I gave up my bunk for one of the marines we picked up along the way."

"C'mon, buddy, you know I'll throw any of them out if I need to so you can get your berth back. All you gotta do is ask."

They both wait for me to answer. And I just stare at the door. I can barely keep my eyes open now, and I still have a lot to think about. I have a eulogy to write if we’re doing a memorial service before we leave. Giving it will be hard enough, and the only way I’ll even figure out what to say is if I have some privacy.

“Wings?”

“Tell you what, James,” I say. “Help me clean up in here and get her ready for the trip home, and then tomorrow night I’ll take that bunk spot back. I just - need a little more time.”

He plants a tree trunk arm around my shoulders. “Sure thing, you got it.”

I reach to open the door and Chakwas calls me back. I turn and she asks, “Did Commander Alenko approve you to fly?”

“Well, he didn’t ground me,” I say, turning to James. “Right? I didn’t miss that, did I?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, that wasn’t really what tonight was supposed to be about. Unless he was figuring that out the whole time. We’d have to call him in to ask.”

“That won’t be necessary right now,” Chakwas says. “Jeff - do _you_ feel prepared to resume your normal duties as chief flight officer?”

I consider saying no, just for a second, before I remember that if I’m really serious about leaving then I’m staring down my final flight. Nothing in the universe could make me give that up, so I nod. “Yes, ma’am. And Steve’s going to be in the copilot’s seat the whole time.”

“Very well,” she says. “I still need to consult Commander Alenko, and I need to conduct your physical and psych evals before we leave. We can do that in the morning.”

“Copy that,” I tell her.

“Goodnight, Jeff. James, make sure you get him his bunk back tomorrow.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

James follows me inside. He doesn’t say a word as he helps me clean up, and he only steps out briefly to get me a trash bag. After that’s taken care of, he helps me - well, I sort of try to help _him_ \- lift her up onto the back table. He lays her out in repose, as best we can, and after we strap her down he tells me he’ll be right back. I stand looking down at her - hating that I didn’t get to say goodbye, bitter that it feels so fucking unfair that she made it through so much only to die after we should have won - until James comes back in. He’s got a bundle under one arm and an Alliance flag in his other hand.

“Here, Wings. Figured you might be sleeping the best just on the deck.” James drops what turns out to be a mat, blanket, and pillow. “And I thought she deserved one of these.”

He hands me a corner of the folded flag. We’re kind of breaking regs here, and this _should_ be done with at least Kaidan present as XO-turned-CO. But I’m grateful James thought of this. We drape the flag over her, and James snaps a salute.

“You sure you’re alright in here?” he asks.

I nod. “Yeah, I - I want one more night just us. Did a lot of that flying your ass around, so I figure I owe her a little more time. And if I go back out there now, I won’t be able to write for her.”

“Alright, just making sure. If, uh, there’s anything I can do?”

“Thanks. There’s not right now. I just need to buckle down and do this.”

“Copy that. ‘Night, Wings.”

After James leaves I lay out the bed roll next to EDI and sit against the table. The deck vibrates ever so slightly beneath me. Someone who doesn’t know the _Normandy_ wouldn’t even notice, and even then you can only feel it now because we’re on solid ground without the cushion of null-grave. My omnitool pings. 2200. We’ll cross the sixty-five percent threshold in two hours, seventy percent in eight. We’re getting close, but forty-eight hours is still a long time to sit around doing nothing. Well, not nothing I guess if we have a funeral to plan. It won’t be much; wartime military funerals never are. There just isn’t time for wailing and crushing depression. But now...

I lean my head back and close my eyes. The one thing I can’t do is give her a proper naval burial, putting her body in a steel coffin and launching her into the void toward a star. I open up my omnitool and play her last message, the one she embedded in the galaxy map that Sam captured for me. She called it “her gift.” But whatever it is it’s not for me, not really. I listen to her voice, the last piece I have, over and over until I lie down and fall asleep.

I skip breakfast the next morning. Well, spending almost two hours with Chakwas means I can wait until everyone else has left and gone back to their jobs before I grab food and head up to the cockpit. I tell Sam not to let anyone bother me because I’m trying to keep my mind clear. Writing hasn’t ever been my strong suit, and coming up with a eulogy is pretty damn hard. After a while it turns into something more. I start to write down as many of our conversations as I can remember. It’s cathartic, helps me remember the good times and her jokes. Her scary, scary jokes about seeing humans on our knees and accidentally leaving the airlock open. All the ways she ever helped us, especially pieces so mundane they wouldn’t have even been logged. I only stop when Adams announces seventy-five percent. Noon of our second day since jumping the core, twelve days since we left Earth.

I spend the rest of the afternoon with Traynor, Adams, and Tali poring through the navigation cache Hackett and the turians sent us. I’ve had every Relay and all the major and secondary nav routes memorized since I was twelve, and this trip is going to be hell. We’re looking at a solid two weeks until Earth. The first leg to get to the Shadow Sea will take half that time. Jumping between navpoints and discharging the drive core along the way without any hope of assistance or maintenance stops means we’re going to have to crawl back to avoid any, and I mean _any_ risks. Funny thinking of superluminal speeds as “crawling.” But without the Shadow Sea Relay to receive us, we can’t jump directly there and hope to be anywhere close at this range. So, a trip that should normally take all of fifteen minutes will take a week. The only good news is that they’ve repaired Charon and they’ve already dispatched construction crews to the Shadow Sea. Charon will get them about three quarters of the way, and then they’re doing local jumps the rest of the way. Since those huge ships have a better range than we do, they should get there about two days before us. And from the look of it, the major structural damage to the Relays is mostly limited to the actuator rings. So once Shadow Sea is restored, we’ll have a straight shot back to Earth. Still, this leapfrogging means full restoration of the Relay network is going to take at least a year, if we’re lucky.

At 1800 on the dot, Adams announces eighty percent and no issues. As daunting as the return home will be, our excitement is growing - even mine, despite everything else. Steve and I end up taking our dinner down to the shuttle bay and talking again in private, about Robert and EDI, growing up in the colonies, what we think might happen in the galaxy now. James comes down after a while and asks if I’m good with having the memorial service tomorrow evening. Considering it’ll be our last day here, I guess I don’t really have a choice. I’m almost done with what I want to say. Another few hours tonight and I’ll be as good to go as I’ll ever be. The three of us spend the rest of the evening playing poker and shooting the shit. I finally get out of there and head back up to Crew at 2200. I don’t even notice that Adams doesn’t update us at midnight. It turns 0100 and I’ve just finished my speech for tomorrow when the crew quarters door opens and Steve comes in.

“Joker, they need us up in the CIC,” he says. I spring up and follow him as fast as I can.

“What’s wrong?” I ask as we get off the elevator. Kaidan, Traynor, and the engineering team are all gathered around the galaxy map.

“We have a slight situation,” Kaidan says. “Sam?”

“We received another cache an hour ago,” she says. “An asari outpost near the Shadow Sea Relay reported in with readings that a proton storm is gathering right in the middle of our flight path.”

I can see it on the map. The forecaster is saying it will hit right about three-quarters of the way there on our current itinerary. And it’s big. That’s normally not a huge problem, but without our full sensor and jumping capabilities once we’re in transit it could slow us down considerably.

“How long is it supposed to last?” I ask.

“It’s estimated at two weeks,” Sam says. “Rerouting around it will tack on another week to our transit time, and that will stretch our fuel and food supplies. We’d be in trouble if there were an issue with the amino synthesizers, especially our dextro-crew.”

“Shit." I step over to a secondary nav console and start looking at options. “When it rains, it pours, huh?”

“That phrase sounds redundant,” Tali mutters.

“Means that statistically-speaking shouldn’t we have caught a break by now?” Steve asks.

“With this crew and this ship?” Adams counters. “Probably better not to ask questions.”

“Alright,” I say, frowning at the screen. “So our options are to wait here two weeks and _hopefully_ get rescued before we start to look really appetizing to each other, or bump up our departure so we can outrun this thing and maybe get close enough to the rescue fleet that we successfully avoid cannibalism?”

“Essentially, yes,” Tali answers.

I look to Kaidan. He’s reading a datapad and looking up at the galaxy map, brow furrowed. This is his first major decision as commander. I don’t envy him.

“Adams, Tali,” he says. “Did the core hit eighty-five percent at midnight?”

“Yes, sir,” Adams says.

“And every subsystem has been tested and is in the green,” Tali adds. “Joker? How are things on your end?”

“Just need to do the final test of the engines,” I say. “Everything checks out fine. No cracks in the housings, fuel lines are solid, power capacitors are scrubbed clean.”

“So, ‘final test’ meaning ‘turn them on and see if we go up’?” Kaidan asks casually and I almost smile.

“I mean, yeah, that’s about it. If they don’t work, they don’t work and we’ll have to wait for pickup.”

“Alright,” Kaidan says, still looking back and forth between the map and his datapad. “Alright. I might have a solution, but engineering needs to greenlight it.”

“All ears, Commander,” Adams says.

“If you still need eight hours or so of running the core at full power, what are the chances of us pushing the final fifteen percent tonight? If we can do that and still give you that buffer time, can we move up our dust off to noon tomorrow? That gives us an extra twenty, twenty-two hours, enough time to get us past the storm.”

“Let me run it,” Tali says. The computer takes forever to think about it. We watch in real-time as the red route line shoots out from our location, dodges around stars and asteroid fields, snaking its convoluted path to the Shadow Sea. It passes the proton storm by about half a million kilometers, a really close shave by galactic standards, and turns green once it hits our end target. “Simulation successful!”

“Shit,” Adams whispers, nodding slightly. “It could check out. Daniels, Donnelly, anything?”

“No, sir,” Daniels says. “It’s pushing our procedures, yes. I mean, going by our book this ranks pretty close to rushing the Omega-4 Relay, but there’s nothing on this end to indicate mission failure.”

“That’s right, Gabby,” Donnelly says. “Nothing here shows anything is out of place or isn’t functioning properly, sir. This girl’s good to fly.”

Adams nods. “I agree. The way the core’s been performing today, it can handle a fifteen percent spike over the next three hours, and we can be out of here by noon. We’re pushing our book, but we’ve done crazier. Joker? You okay with this new itinerary?”

“It’s tight, but we can make it. Does anyone want the exact numbers?”

No one answers. “Didn’t think so. Here’s the thing - if we’re delayed before we hit the nav-checks for getting past the storm - and I mean if we’re delayed even a few hours - we’ll miss the window and we’ll have to stop dead in the middle of nowhere. That’s the kind of risk we’ve been trying to avoid, especially if our food and fuel reserves are running low. But then again, if the rescue fleet is on its way, they’ll probably be able to help us out if we have to wait. If that risk is acceptable - or, you know, we want to tell people to tighten their belts - then yeah, let’s fucking do this.”

Kaidan doesn’t move or speak. He’s more thoughtful than Shepard. Or at least more outwardly deliberate. When he finally talks, it’s not to all of us.

“Admiral Tali’zorah vas Normandy, this is the kind of command decision Doctor Chakwas would absolutely bar me from making right now,” Kaidan says to her. “Knowing what we do - that our regular supplies will run out in about two weeks, that we need to get ahead of this proton storm, that we do have an alternate route but also have the option to stay and wait for rescue - do you have any objections to speeding up our timeline?”

“We’re all anxious to get going, and it seems that time has come sooner than expected,” she says. “The _Normandy’s_ as reliable as ever. I have no objections - provided there are no problems getting the core up to full capacity and it holds for Engineer Adams’s pre-determined length of time.”

Kaidan nods and looks over everything again. “Sam, please enter this into the ship’s log: we have green lights from engineering, navigation, and the helm. We’re getting the hell out of here. Engineer Adams, proceed with the final stage of restoring drive core functionality. I’ll call general stations at 0600 for our final checks, then we’ll run out the clock with breakfast and the memorial. Good work, team. Joker, I need a word. Everyone else is dismissed. ”

Engineering rushes toward the elevator to go and finish the repairs, the rest spread around the CIC, and Kaidan motions me toward the helm. Once we get there, I lean against my chair as his eyes scan across his datapad before setting it aside.

“Doctor Chakwas sent me your evals from this morning,” he says. “She’s cleared you to fly.”

“Huzzah for me.”

His expression doesn’t change. “It’s contingent on Steve carrying out copilot duties and taking an equal number of solo shifts.”

“Oh, then huzzah for us.”

“ _Joker_.”

“Relax, Commander. I’m good.”

“I really want to believe you.”

_Ouch. Okay then._

I shrug and nod. “Fair enough. I haven’t exactly been on my game lately.”

“Which is why we’re having this conversation in private, off the official record.”

Something clicks and I can’t help but chuckle. “I think I wasn’t fair to you yesterday. It was a slick move, getting me off the ship so I could blow off steam away from everyone. Shepard would be proud. Ship morale kind of tanks when the crew sees an anxious pilot, huh?”

“Better than having it happen at the memorial or mid-flight,” he replies simply.

I clap, slowly, begrudgingly. “Kudos on the play, Commander.”

He ignores me and somehow stares harder. “Straight answer, no games. Are you good to fly?”

“I’m good. My mind's clear, and I'm doing what I can to help us get out of here. And if you're still afraid I’ll shoot the _Normandy_ through a star or something, then I’ll remind you there are exactly twenty-three redundant fail-safes to keep that from happening. You don't need to worry about me because I still give a damn about the ship and the crew. My personal shit stays separate.”

“Alright, then you’re cleared.”

“Just like that?”

Kaidan nods. “I trust you, Joker.”

“Alright, good to hear. Anything else you need tonight?”

Kaidan powers up his data pad again. “I need your revised flight plan and a shift schedule for you and Steve, however you want to work that out. Get it to me by morning and I’ll approve it.”

“You got it.” He shifts a little and I raise an eyebrow. “And…?”

“So, um, look, the crew wants me to say something at the memorial tomorrow. For Shepard. To recognize what he did. But I don’t want to take away from the - ”

That familiar anger starts to rise in my chest again and I need to get him out of here before I do something stupid, so I reach under the console and pull out the memorial plaque Shepard made for himself.

“You should,” I say gruffly.

Kaidan takes it from me and focuses really hard on not looking at it. “Joker, it’s up to you. I’m serious. I’ll tell them it’s not the time or the place, and it’ll be fine.”

“Just do it, Kaidan. It’s fine. He should be recognized. This whole party was for him to make the kill-shot, and he got it done - whatever it was he did.”

He doesn’t say anything, but I can feel his eyes boring into me. I look up and nod. “Really. I’m fine. Do what you’ve gotta do, but I have some work to finish up here.”

“Alright,” he says. “Joker, you’re - you’re a good man.”

“I know,” I snort. “I hate that.”

Kaidan huffs a little, pats my shoulder like all of this is somehow normal, and turns to go. “Get some sleep if you can. Hard day tomorrow.”

_Sure, but not for a guy who’s actually going back to something._

“G’night, Commander.”

He leaves and I throw myself into the shift schedule. I don’t bother calling Steve up, so we tap everything out on our datapads. Once that’s done, I move so I can get up and my knee twists. Not enough for even a sprain let alone a break, but enough that going all the way back down to Crew stops sounding like a good idea. Screw it. Since this is going to be my last flight on this bird, I may as well catch some sleep in the pilot’s chair for old times’ sake. I tug my hat down over my eyes and cross my arms.

Normally, one of my many talents is being able to sleep the second I’ve got a mission worked out. But the damn crew meeting happened right when I was winding down so now I’m wide awake. I’ll be lucky to grab a few hours until reverie. Then it’ll be a quick breakfast before running through every single pre-flight checklist with Traynor, Adams, and Steve. Not that we haven’t been doing that nonstop the last three days, but still. Pretty much the worst time ever to miss something. I run through the lists in my head over and over until everything fades.

It feels like only a second has passed before light’s streaming in through the forward viewports and Kaidan’s voice is calling everyone to their stations. From the sound of pounding feet and lights flashing on when our personnel get to their stations, we’ve still got it. I pull up the drive core status, and it’s green across the board. One-hundred-goddamned-percent and holding strong. Steve gets to the helm with a tray of food right as I start clapping and radio down to engineering that they did one hell of a job. He and I complete the standard pre-flight checks with Traynor, and then Adams tells us that things are as good as they’re ever going to get so we should proceed. We start running through our special check-list - stuff real particular to the _Normandy_ that other ships don’t have to worry about - and everything is pristine like she just rolled off the line. And then the moment of truth.

_“Engineering, helm,”_ Adams radios. _“We are go for engines test.”_

“Copy that, engineering,” I say.

“Cross-checks are green,” Steve confirms.

“Green across the board, engineering. Firing in three… two… one…” I hit the glorified start button, breath held for absolutely no reason other than drama. And then the familiar shudder of raw, unbridled power flows through the _Normandy_. I reach out and pat the top of the control panel.

“That’s my girl,” I whisper and then through to engineering, “Full ignition, repeat, full ignition. Engines one through four at full idle. Power holding steady well within normal ranges. She is ready and raring to go!”

_“Damn straight, helm,”_ Adams says. _“Recommend holding at minimum power until we’re ready to leave.”_

“Already done,” I tell him. “Drinks are on me once I get back to civilization.” And then I pull up the ship’s intercom. “ _Normandy_ crew, this is your pilot speaking. We are go for launch on orders.”

I pull myself up from the chair, and Traynor pulls me into a hug. “You’ve done all of us proud,” she says. “And EDI would be so pleased with your work. Uh, sir, sorry, sir. Just had to tell you once.”

“Thanks Sam,” I say. “Oh, crap, uh - here, take these for me.” I reach down under my console and pull out the bottle of whisky I’d been saving. “We’ll need a toast at the service.”

“Yes, sir,” she says and takes them.

“Great work, Joker,” Steve grins.

We follow her to the elevator and down to the crew deck where everyone is already gathering, some trying to sneak in a late breakfast and some - mostly the command crew - hugging and congratulating each other. They drag me into the fray, and then I see the memorial plaques laid out on the table. My mood sobers fast and I feel my throat starting to close up. Kaidan and Tali have a hurried conversation with Adams, and then they each shake his hand and hug him. Then Kaidan walks over to me.

“I think we’re all ready to start if you are,” he says. I can tell he’s anxious to get going, but he’s seriously toned it down out of respect for the next hour or so.

“Yeah, Commander, let’s get this over with,” I say. I sit down and pick up EDI’s nameplate. I will myself to turn off the worst of my feelings right now. I can cry again later, not now. The crowd shifts as the command crew moves forward toward the Memorial Wall and the non-coms back up to give us space. They’re still part of this, but the bulk of what’s said and done this morning is on us.

“Glyph, is Commander Shepard connected?” Liara asks him.

“No, ma’am. Due to our schedule change, Commander Shepard is currently in surgery. I am prepared to record the ceremony and transmit as soon as it is over.”

“Thank you, Glyph. Begin recording,” Kaidan says. “Joker?”

I nod as Garrus comes over, extends a hand, and helps me up so I can join them.

“Do you want to go first?” he asks me.

I shake my head. “No, let’s start at the top with Admiral Anderson.”

Garrus nods, and then picks up and holds Anderson’s plaque. The irony isn’t lost on anyone in the room. He steps forward to the wall.

“I am General Garrus Vakarian, and I honor Admiral David Anderson,” he starts in the traditional turian way - respect, names and honors before all else. “I honor Admiral David Anderson, who once was my people’s enemy. He was born on Earth in London in the terran year 2137, and graduated the first N7 from the program on Arcturus Station. And in the First Contact War, he gave our forces hell. No higher honor can be given by my people than to recognize a supremely talented military leader who inspires those who serve under him and who wins battles. But I honor Admiral David Anderson who also served as the first human Councilor and won battles of diplomacy and conscience, for those are far more difficult. Perhaps the greatest accomplishment of his life was mentoring and training Commander Shepard, hero of the galaxy who saved us from the two greatest enemies any of us have ever faced - the Reapers and discord. Turian tradition decrees that no soldier is personally honored without those who command them also receiving due praise, so any accolade given to Commander Shepard is an honor given to his mentor.

“It follows that if the galaxy was saved through Commander Shepard’s actions, then it was ultimately saved by Admiral David Anderson’s mentorship, his experience, his wisdom, his courage. It must also be said that not one of us gathered today would be here without the events begun by Admiral David Anderson. Each of us came to serve on the _Normandy_ because Admiral David Anderson chose us or chose us by extension through Commander Shepard. So it is our duty going forth that whenever someone speaks highly of our accomplishments or victories that our first words must not be prideful agreement but rather should honor the man who set all of this in motion. His memory lives while we honor him, and his honor lives as long as our words and those of our children and our children’s children and our generations unending speak of his sacrifice and bravery. I am General Garrus Vakarian, and my life and victories are those of Admiral David Anderson. Our lives and victories are those of Admiral David Anderson, and he will be remembered.”

As he speaks his last words, he places the nameplate on the wall in between the two columns listing our twenty-one fallen crewmates. Now there are twenty-two names on the wall, and it’s my turn to add the next. I’m ready. But I do wish we’d toasted Anderson before I have to speak.

“EDI didn’t join the crew of the _Normandy_ like the rest of us,” I begin. “She didn’t volunteer, she wasn’t assigned. She started by taking potshots at Commander Shepard and his strike team when they were sent to disable her on Luna when she went rogue. That’s what the mission was, handed down from Admiral Hackett. She wasn’t the first VI to ‘go rogue’ because of faulty programming, but this was different. She was the first human-made VI to gain self-awareness, and she reacted as any organic would when she was met with hostility. Before she was shut down, she broadcast herself into the void. For all their faults, Cerberus did something with her that no one had ever done before. They gave her purpose beyond simple tasks. She didn’t join the crew of the _Normandy_ ; she was as much a part of the ship as the drive core and engines, the bulkheads and rivets, the shields and life-support. When the Collectors hit while the command crew was away, it fell on her to save the ship. Unshackling her was the only way, and that changed everything for us again. The _Normandy_ stopped being just a ship; she became alive in her own way because of EDI. After that there wasn’t all that much of a difference between the two. EDI saved us more times than most of us know. She kept us safe when we were all too exhausted, too sad, too distracted to do everything we needed to do. She navigated us through damn near every system in the galaxy looking for survivors and holdouts for the united effort against the Reapers. She coordinated supply lines while we slept. She kept communication channels open when sectors were going dark. She stayed constant while our homeworlds were falling. And she did all of this without complaining and without any hint of selfishness beyond organic self-preservation. We’d never have made it without her.”

I pause. The words of her last message run through my head. I won’t ruin the moment with everything she said. It’s too complicated, and this isn’t the time or place for it. But I will tell them what her last act of help was. “When the Crucible fired, she thought the entire fleet might be destroyed and she devoted her last few minutes to finding us a safe haven. She jumped us further out than the rendezvous point into a system where there was absolutely no known Reaper presence in the hopes of saving us. I didn’t save us, she did. And her last words were a vector to follow and the words ‘you’ll be safe.’ She was right. Her last act was a sacrifice for us. We’ll miss you, EDI. I’ll miss you. You - you were the best companion a guy could ask for. And thank you for everything you did for us. Clear skies and smooth flying.”

I walk forward and place her name on the Wall. I have more I want to say, more personal things but I’ll come back later. And I’ll honor her memory as best I can, do everything she asked. Some good will eventually come out of this. I’ll make it happen. And I’ll keep my promise to Steve. I’ll talk to Shepard when we get back to Earth. I owe her that, and myself I guess. I step back and look to Kaidan and the rest. They’re all as somber as I am.

“Does anyone else want to say anything?” Kaidan asks.

Gabby speaks up from the back, “Kenneth, you should sing. You have a lovely voice for these kinds of songs.”

“No, Gabby,” he says. “No one wants me to - ”

“Donnelly, do it,” Adams growls. Donnelly clears his throat and starts, haltingly at first then stronger.

_“Of all the money that e’er I’ve had, I’ve spend it in good company.  
_ _And all the harm that e’er I’ve done, alas, it was to none but me.  
_ _And all I’ve done for want of wit to mem’ry now I can’t recall.  
_ _So fill to me the parting glass; goodnight and joy be with you all.  
  
_ _So fill to me the parting glass and drink a health whate’er befall,  
_ _I’ll gently rise and softly call goodnight and joy be with you all."_

Kenneth is a surprisingly smooth baritone. It’s an old song, one sung at pretty much every Alliance funeral or at the wakes after, sometimes in quiet moments before big ops. Although usually there’s an entire choir singing it. Either way, the procedure is the same. By the end of the first verse, Sam and I are pouring a finger of whisky into glasses for everyone. It’s a little skimpy spread between so many, but we’re also about to start flying. We pass the glasses around as Kenneth begins the second verse.

_“Of all the comrades that e’er I had they’re sorry for my going away.  
_ _And all the sweethearts that e’er I had, they’d wish me one more day to stay.  
_ _But since it fell unto my lot that I should rise and you should not,  
_ _I’ll gently rise and softly call goodnight and joy be with you all.  
_

_So fill to me the parting glass and drink a health whate’er befall,  
_ _I’ll gently rise and softly call goodnight and joy be with you all.”_

The glasses are passed out and we all raise them. Most of us join him for the last verse, to varying degrees of harmonic success. God knows we’ve had way too much practice doing this.

_“A man may drink and not be drunk, a man may fight and not be slain.  
_ _A man may court whoe’er he will and perhaps be welcomed home again.  
_ _But since it has so ought to be, by a time to rise and a time to fall,  
_ _Come fill to me the parting glass. Goodnight and joy be with you all._

_So fill to me the parting glass and drink a health whate’er befall,_   
_I’ll gently rise and softly call goodnight and joy be with you all._   
_Goodnight and joy be with you all.”_

Tradition dictates that we hold our glasses up until the commanding officer calls the first name, and then anyone can call out the rest if they’re quick enough.

“To Admiral Anderson, whose command and training brought us victory,” Kaidan says.

“To Anderson,” we call in unison.

“To EDI, the _Normandy’s_ best asset who kept us alive more times than we can count,” Tali says.

“To EDI.”

We tip our glasses toward the Memorial Wall once and then throw back the amber liquid. Hopefully this will be the last time for a while. We’ve lost too much. I feel a gentle hand on my shoulder, and I smile sadly at Liara.

“Joker?” Kaidan asks softly. I dip my head and he nods once. As much as writing for EDI hurt, he might have a harder task than me. What do you say at a memorial where the person didn’t end up dying? Still, if the crew needs him to say something and if he’s got something to say then let him get it off his chest.

Kaidan picks up Shepard’s nameplate and steps forward.

“This honestly isn’t how I pictured this moment,” he says. He’s talking to all of us, but it may as well just be him and Shepard. “In our darkest moments, in my nightmares - waking and sleeping - I always saw myself visiting your grave. Laying flowers down, talking to you. Telling you about the galaxy’s reconstruction. Crying because I wished things had been different. I never believed you would fail, but I couldn’t get that image out of my mind. And I know you saw something similar, too. No matter how brave a face you put on these last months, I knew you were certain you wouldn't make it out of this alive. And maybe you had every reason to think that. There wasn't any reason to hope for victory. We all knew that if we got through this, it would be a near thing. There was loss. Palaven. Tuchanka. Thessia. Rannoch. Sanctuary. Earth. Admiral Anderson and EDI. It's almost unbearable to think how much. Maybe we'll never know just how much it really cost us. We lost a lot of friends. They sacrificed themselves for the mission, for your vision and our hope.”

He runs his hand over Shepard’s name and then looks up again. “I know how you thought this would end for you. Maybe even for all of us. You were sure you weren't coming back.” He pauses and smiles. "But you were wrong. You hoped. You beat them. We did the impossible and made it out the other side. I couldn't be prouder of you, love."

He kneels and lays Shepard’s nameplate at the bottom of the Memorial Wall. When he stands, he puts his hand on the Wall next to Anderson’s name and says, “Thank you, all of you, for your service, for your love and friendship, for your sacrifice.” He snaps a salute and all of us follow suit.

We linger another few minutes, passing along kind words and more hugs. Liara’s the first to turn a gentle touch into an embrace. After Tali and Garrus do the same I’m already shutting all of this out, and I step to the side after Chakwas tells me she’s proud of me because my mind is already back up at the helm. Kaidan gets a good look at my face and calls the crew back together.

“Alright, everyone,” he says. “We’ve got a tough trip ahead of us without much room for error. We’ve handled everything the universe has thrown at us, and we’ll make it now. Joker, let’s get the hell out of here.”

We send up a cheer and then split up double-time. Steve follows along beside me. The elevator is packed with the CIC regulars, and the energy is frenetic. We get out, and Tali and Kaidan walk up to the galaxy map while Steve and I head to the helm.

As we take our seats and engage our initial departure programs, I say, “Hey, sorry I took a swing at you.”

“It’s alright, Joker. Would’ve hurt you more than me. There are less painful ways to get grounded.”

I crack a grin. “I’d have claimed it was your fault. So, sure, you might’ve gotten the _Normandy_ , but I’d have gotten your pension.”

“And we all know how much that would be. ‘Thank you for your service. Here’s a thousand credits and a swift kick to the ass on your way out,’” he laughs. “Alright, all systems are showing one-hundred.”

“Helm to engineering, we’re green across the board up here,” I say.

_“Engineering, helm, drive core is a go. Repeat, drive core is a go.”_

“Thank fuck,” I whisper to Steve and then, over the comms, “Commander, Admiral, the _Normandy_ is primed and ready to fly on your orders.”

_“We’re go for launch,”_ Tali confirms.

_“Course is locked in,”_ Kaidan says. _“Bring us home, Joker.”_

“Roger that, command” I respond. “You ready Steve?”

“Let’s do it,” he smiles.

“Here goes nothing.”

I lift us off solid ground for what will probably be my last time. She’s handling like a dream, same as always. We point our nose to the sky and blast forward through the atmo. It takes less than a minute for the brilliant blue to turn midnight and then black, dotted with stars. We blaze into a gravity burn to swing around the planet to our proper jump point. We hit our mark and then the eezo glow envelops the ship as the mass effect field forms. We blast forward onto our flight path and I sit back.

“Alright, Cortez,” I say. “I know you’ve got your SR-2 certifications, but there’s a few things you need to know about this bird.”

And that’s how we spend the week. The combined time in jumps gives us hours of training time, and our shifts - even though I rarely leave the helm - let him handle a mix of the easier and more complex maneuvers. He’s alright, not as good as I am, and I make sure he knows it, too. But really I’m just screwing with him because there’s a good reason the Alliance made him my second. The only time I won’t let him fly completely solo is on our approach to the proton storm and as we pass it. We actually gained some time on the way, and we miss it by hours and nearly a lightyear. The ship’s performing beautifully. Not bad for the galaxy’s biggest patch job.

And when the flying’s easier, we talk about EDI and Robert. Vega sometimes comes up and takes the jump seat and shoots the shit or we play cards. Talk sometimes turns to Fehl Prime or some other massive shitshow, but more often than not we’re either talking about nothing in particular or we’re just quiet. Kaidan does his regular rounds, but more often than not he leaves just as quickly. I’m not mad about it.

Our last transit day is hard on me. Every turn, every jump makes me start to regret my decision. Or makes me feel like I should regret it. I honestly don’t even know anymore. But this has been good. A nice send-off to flying and the _Normandy_. Steve knows me well enough that small talk will just make things uncomfortable, so he lets me work in silence. We only break it when we’re switching off for bathroom breaks or meals. And then I let him leave and I don’t call him back in. At this point, I want as much time up here by myself as possible. After today, we’ll have one last jump to Earth. The navigation computer alerts me that we’re approaching the Shadow Sea Relay site.

“All crew, this is your illustrious pilot speaking,” I say. “We are ten minutes out from the Shadow Sea. Drop what you’re doing and take a seat.”

We slow out of our last jump right on the money, and there’s an entire damn coalition flotilla ready to meet us. It also looks like they’ve been working faster than anticipated because the Relay itself is nearly complete. They give us a hero’s welcome on board one of the quarian flagships, as much as they can anyway - minus any sort of Alliance military pomp. But it sure is nice to see some fresh faces and get more updates about the galaxy. To everyone’s surprise, it only takes about three three days to finish the Relay.

On our last night with the Relay flotilla, Steve comes into our room to tell me Kaidan wants to check in again. I leave to meet him in one of the common areas we’ve been given, passing a few of our crewmates along the way. I’m exhausted after the week we’ve just had, trying not to get bogged down by thinking about the future, and hoping this will be a short conversation. Kaidan’s pacing, barefooted in the teal alien grass of the lawn, arms clasped behind his back. He smiles when he sees me.

“I know I’ve already said this, but you did a hell of a job getting us here, Joker.”

“Thanks, Commander. You didn’t do so bad yourself.”

He shrugs a little bit. “We’ve had better. And nix the rank. I didn’t want this to be shop talk.”

“Good to know. Think you’ll be able to sleep tonight?”

“Hell no,” he chuckles. “And I basically haven’t since we got to the flotilla. I just need - ”

His smile fades and he breathes deeply. “Joker, thank you. I can’t even begin to tell you how much it means to me that you’ve pushed through everything to get us back here. I know it’s not easy to detach from grief and focus on the job.”

“You’re welcome.”

“And I’m sorry that - ”

“Please don’t,” I mutter. “Everyone keeps telling me they’re sorry for what happened to her. It doesn’t help.”

He grimaces and shakes his head. “I should have remembered. I hated it so much after Alchera.”

I don’t know what to say to that, but he keeps going. “Now that we’re closer, I’ve been able to be in contact with Shepard and Admiral Hackett. We’re going to do everything we can for you. And for EDI. I don’t know what that’ll look like exactly, but you have my word. And I guess I’m still hoping that after this incredible flight you’ve pulled off - ”

“Kaidan, I’m done.”

He sighs, but he nods. “Alright. You’re done. We’ll work something out then. Do you need anything else from me right now?”

I shake my head. “No, I just want to get some sleep before tomorrow.”

“Then I won’t keep you any longer.”

Kaidan extends his hand and I shake it quickly. I turn to go but look back after a few steps. He’s looking off into the distance, our conversation out of the way and clearly out of mind because his smile says everything. Bile rises in my throat and I stop.

“Kaidan?” He startles out of his fantasy. “Steve said Shepard told you something. Back in London, to get you to leave him. What happened down there?”

I hate that it feels a little good to see a cloud pass over his face.

“He told me I had to get out of there,” he whispers. “When I argued he told me he loved me, and then he told me to leave. And that was it. I didn’t think I’d ever see him again.”

I nod. “That’s rough. I’m sorry it went down like that.”

“Joker - ”

“At least you had the chance to say goodbye. Don’t ever forget that.”

I turn without another word and go straight back to my room. Steve gets one look at me and wisely doesn’t say anything. I take a shower and hit my bunk, turning toward the wall so I can cry in peace. Steve turns the lights down immediately, but he slips out. As I fight for sleep, I war against my exhaustion and burning resentment. Shepard and Kaidan’s chances never seem to run out while I’ve never caught a single break.

And _God_ , I hate myself so much for what I said to Kaidan and what I think of them.

Reverie comes way too soon, and I force myself through my morning routine until we get back to the _Normandy_. Then I can stop thinking about myself and focus entirely on the last part of the mission. I’ve never seen Kaidan more anxious than right before we make the jump to Earth. He darts around the entire ship, triple-checking everything for the fifth time. It annoys the shit out of me, but I honestly don’t blame him at all. We’re all ready to get back. He doesn’t say anything about our conversation, and he also doesn’t fight me when I kick him out of the helm so he stops hovering. Steve doesn’t say anything else after we’ve cleared the flotilla.

The last jump is beautiful. The patterns of the eezo glow and mass field are rarely so ordered and kaleidoscopic. As frustratingly slow as our trip to the Shadow Sea was, now I wish we had more time going back to the Local Cluster. But the first sign the galaxy is slowly returning to normal is that our jump lasts all of two minutes. It’s twenty minutes from Charon, passing beautifully close to Jupiter along the way, and then we’re home. A huge portion of the fleets have reassembled in full formation waiting for us. The remains of the Citadel and the Crucible drift behind them.

_“_ Normandy _helm, this is_ Denali _control. It’s bloody good to see you.”_

“Copy, that _Denali_ ,” I say. “It’s good to be home. Requesting permission to dock.”

_“Docking cleared for 1A, Normandy,”_ she responds. _“Welcome back. Admiral Hackett and High Command are prepared to receive you when you land.”_

As she says this, four full flights of fighters form up alongside us. It’s an honor guard fit for an admiral. Personally, I’m still just hoping for some cake.

I pull up the ship’s intercom. “All crew, we’re on our final approach to the _Denali_. And look sharp, they’re rolling out every red carpet they’ve got.”

We land in the docking bay, and the welcoming party is barely keeping it together. Lines of sharply dressed officers and non-coms are bursting with energy. I’m sure it’s all Hackett can do to keep them in something like parade formation. There’s a whole delegation of brass at the back of the room, and one larger than life figure seated in a wheelchair. Shepard waves up at us after we touch down, but I don’t return it. I clear us for disembarkment after a ramp is extended to the side hatch. Steve leaves without a word, but squeezes my shoulder as he passes. I sit back for a minute and take my time going through our shut-down procedures. I can hear the deck clearing out behind me until I’m alone. There’s a roaring cheer from outside and I can’t wait any longer, so I stand and lay my hand down on the now blank control panel.

“We’ve had a good run, old girl,” I say. “Thanks for the adventure.”

Then I stand straight and salute the helm.

“I’ll miss you, EDI.”

I turn with all the dignity I can gather for the cameras that must be waiting outside. And for getting congratulated by all the brass. I don’t care about any of it, but it’s what needs to happen for tradition and morale. I leave the helm for the last time, wishing I didn’t see so many ghosts as I go. I look down at the CIC. It’s silent for the first time in who knows how long, and that does actually comfort me a little bit. I wonder if they’ll keep it intact or change it since this may not need to be a warship any longer. I pause in the open airlock before anyone can see me. I put my hand out on the wall and I find I don’t regret my decision. I know talking with Shepard won't change a thing. This is right. There’s something else out there for me that isn’t in here. I whisper another goodbye and leave her behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, all. Thank you so much for reading! Again - my apologies for the posting delay.
> 
> Good Lord, this chapter gave me so much trouble. The first pass at it ended up being woefully inadequate to capture Joker's character and grief, so it ended up getting 3k longer and took forever to edit because I got so frustrated with it and with myself.
> 
> Extra special thanks to Beta Reader Padfoot for meticulously workshopping the *checks notes* five versions of this chapter, for not letting me give up on the process, and for the perfect chapter title!


	10. Tali 2 - Future Plans and Past Sins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the _Normandy_ continues its return journey to the Shadow Sea and galactic civilization, Tali and Garrus discuss their options together moving forward. And Tali considers a course of action that has vast implications beyond their budding relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> 

From the logs of Admiral Tali’Zorah vas Normandy, acting captain of the SSV _Normandy_ by emergency declaration of its crew - Day 19 after the Battle of the Crucible:

_“This will be my last log as acting captain. We’re due to arrive at the Shadow Sea Relay in approximately three hours, or slightly after 0200 on Day Twenty. Commander Alenko and I decided it would be awkward if I retain my piratical title any longer, so I’m resigning my post of captain to save us from any military judicial consequences. Not that anyone outside of this ship or Admiral Hackett and Commander Shepard know that legally speaking I headed a mutiny, however democratic. Still - best not to rock the boat, as the humans say._

_“Our transit from the crash site has been surprisingly smooth. Given the damage to the ship and the low morale after we left Earth, it really is a miracle that we got moving again as quickly as we did. Granted, we all got a morale boost when we finally made contact with Admiral Hackett and found out that Commander Shepard managed to survive. Still, the journey has been painfully slow as if we’ve regressed centuries back to the times when galactic travel was more akin to ocean voyaging. Slow, deliberate, risky, and - according to Lieutenant Commander Vega - pushing the boundaries of maps that read ‘Here, there be thresher maws.’ Joker and Steve, Lieutenant Cortez that is, have done an incredible job getting us to this point. This flight will be studied for years, I think. Commander Alenko has already put their names into consideration for the Alliance Navy’s highest commendations. I doubt they’ll be denied._

_“As for the rest of us, we’ve done a lot of waiting and some routine maintenance and more waiting and, let’s see, yes, more waiting. Without a mission to prepare for or recover from, tempers have been slightly on edge - mainly among the marines we picked up in London. But Lieutenant Commander Vega has been doing a fantastic job of keeping them in line. The rest of the command crew, including myself, are just flat out anxious. And bored. We keep expecting something to happen and delay us. It’s not as if we have an incredible track record of plans working exactly as they should. So after the last few years, the lack of excitement is unsettling. If this is what life will be like for us, I think cabin fever may be the least of our worries._

_“The problem with nothing to do, as always, is having too much time to think. Commander Alenko and I have run everyone through every possible maintenance task, personal training, and combat sim we can think of several times over. Even so, there are only so many times a soldier can clean or reassemble components or rifles before getting agitated by the mundane repetition. Even the command crew is listless, so we spend as much of our time as we can stand working through the details of what comes next. I think it's getting pretty clear that none of us is going to just sit by and watch the galaxy rebuild from afar. We've invested too much in this victory to do that. We all want to be right in the thick of it, which presents a problem for us. The thick of it is everywhere, and none of us can be everywhere at once._

_“Despite the daunting challenges we've faced and the ones still to come, we're looking to the future, figuring out what normal will look like now. Maybe even finding entirely new ways of existing and thriving together. My greatest hope is the unity Commander Shepard forged will hold even now that our enemy has been destroyed. It would be such a shame to have come so far and then devolve back into quarrelsome factions again. And this, I think, is the greatest lesson the_ Normandy _has taught me. No matter our backgrounds or our species or how our worlds have clashed, all it takes to unify us is one mission, one vision of the future which we can all fight for. I truly believe this is a lesson we can impart to the galaxy._

_“This is Admiral Tali'Zorah vas Normandy, signing off."_

I collapse backwards on the port lounge couch. " _Keelah_ , this is - what’s the human word? Dairy? Cheesy?”

“I have no idea,” Garrus says. He's been lazing around while I've been pacing and writing. “None of their sayings ever makes much sense to me.”

“Well, it sounds childish, anyway.”

"Don't. I liked it. And it's better than the last five versions."

"I'm going to change it."

“Can I take a look? Maybe help fix a few things?” He reaches over and gently takes the datapad away from me and then saves the entry before setting it down. "Oops, too late now. Schoolchildren on every planet will memorize it for centuries to come. And you can rest assured that you've made it easier for them."

"Vakarian, you jackass _bosh’tet_ ," I groan. "Undo it."

"Can't," he chuffs laughter. "It's now a permanent part of this ship's history. And I'd like to point out that you're no longer my commanding officer."

"No?" I spin around and straddle his lap. "Are you sure?"

He gulps. "I mean, at least not officially - on the _Normandy_ , anyway."

"Interesting theory. Should we test it?"

"Is it safe? With your suit - "

"We're only three hours from the Relay construction fleet, and most of the ships are quarian. That's barely enough time for an infection to set in, not that I'll need a doctor now that I'm immune to you."

He chuckles again. “There you go with the art of seduction. You sure know how to entice me.”

I stroke his fringe in the way I know will _certainly_ start to entice him, and I smile at the immediate effect under my hips. I lock the door with my omnitool. “You brought your haptic sheath, didn’t you?”

“I may have brought it with me.”

“Good. Then where are we with that theory of yours?”

"Considering the sample size is still small, I think we need to run a few more tests. You know, just to be absolutely sure of our findings," he says, his hand running up my back and signalling my suit sensors into high alert.

"I completely agree."

“Thank the spirits.”

I reach up, undo my faceplate, and then I kiss him. It feels incredible after almost three weeks. We got in as many times as we could before the final battle to build up my immunity. I also ran a decontamination sweep of the lounge before he got here. As we kiss and rock against the couch I think about how unlikely our friendship was at first - him, the experienced C-Sec operative, and me, the inexperienced pilgrim. Once my naivete died off we became closer friends, and then this happened. Not entirely unexpected, at least according to Liara, but certainly welcome.

We move at a different speed now than before. His wound doesn’t hurt anymore but his movements are more methodical, bordering on unsure. I make up for the difference. After his garments are discarded on the deck and enough of my suit has been unlatched, I lock the ring of his haptic sheath around him and activate it. Cannons aren’t the only thing he’s good at calibrating. The customized protective device smooths out his rougher edges and sends waves of pleasure through my body as I mount him. His mandibles shudder as I start grinding forward. Even as slow as we go now, we lose an hour of the remaining three in the blink of an eye.

"I'm so glad this worked out between us," Garrus whispers, slipping his taloned hand along my skull ridges down to my neck. We're sprawled on the floor now. Not the most comfortable position, but neither of us minds.

"I wish it had happened sooner.” I close my eyes briefly and take a deep breath. "And, Garrus, I've been thinking."

"Oh, no," he mutters. "This is 'the talk.' The one where we have to figure out whether or not we can keep this up after we get back. I've been dreading it for days."

"Garrus." He sits up against the couch and I prop myself on one elbow. "We both have worlds to rebuild, responsibilities to consider - and superiors who will demand our time."

"So we counter-demand."

"And how might we do that?"

"Well, Rannoch and Palaven aren't exactly close. But given the fact that the Relay network is down, it's going to be a while before either of us can actually go home, so I’d think that gives us at least a few months to figure out a plan."

"And then? I don't want just a few months.” He offers his hand and pulls me up to lie against his chest.

"Neither do I, so we’ll work something out with our governments," he says and kisses the top of my head. "We'll spend a few months on Palaven, a few on Rannoch, helping where we can, setting up new projects that will take a while to really get up and running, come back to check on them and improve them. Repeat as needed."

I nod. "We'd need a nice ship. Something fast with a pilot who can handle navigational nightmares. Could be a lot to ask."

"We're goddamned heroes, Admiral," he chortles. "They'll be begging us to do this work and they'll give us whatever we ask for."

"I suppose that's true," I say but his eyes narrow, maybe sensing my doubt.

"Tali, I will do whatever it takes to make sure we can be together. This is a brand-new start, and I want to be with you for every moment of it."

"And I don't want to be anywhere else."

He startles, sits up entirely, and I raise myself up to meet his eyes. His voice is barely a whisper. "Wait, so, are we asking each other - "

I shake my head. "I'm not, not right now. Not that I don't - that I wouldn’t want - _Keelah_ , I'm making a mess of this."

"It's alright, I - shit, I'm sorry. I rushed what you were going to say," he stammers. "Take a few deep breaths - or maybe I should. Okay, I'm shutting up now."

I laugh lightly and kiss him. “You’re fine.” Then I collect my thoughts and start over. "Garrus, I think I'm starting to love you. No, I _do_ love you. And I want us to be together. I just need you to know that my priority, my top priority - I can't lie to you and say it's not - is Rannoch and settling my people. And your duty dictates your top priority is Palaven and your people. So I don't know how we can do all three of these things with the entire galaxy separating our worlds."

"That separation is just distance and time," he shrugs. "So what if we’re constantly on the move for a while? I don’t like being stationary, and you’re, well, neither do quarians for that matter. We'll make it work."

"Garrus, we're talking about entire _planets_! Rebuilding Palaven and its colonies, building up Rannoch from scratch. None of that will happen quickly. I'd - Garrus, I'd be so much less hesitant if we still had the geth to help us. Everything changed with Legion, and they pledged their support. Now that we’ve lost them, all of it will be more difficult."

He nods and takes a while to answer. "Losing them was - big. We never really had time to talk about Legion, and I’m sorry he’s gone - that they’re all gone. And I think I understand your feelings better now. Thank you."

"Garrus, I don't want us to stop being together," I reply quickly.

"No, I know, and I don't want that either," he says and takes my hands. "So, here's my offer: _you_ get to set our time-table. If that's fifty-fifty Rannoch and Palaven, so be it. If it's seventy-thirty Rannoch and Palaven, wonderful. Whatever you decide is best is what I'll support. You're much smarter about this stuff than I am anyway. So that's my promise to you, and when we need to talk and figure out if everything is still working then that's what we'll do."

"Garrus, you're a general! The Hierarchy - "

"Will be fine without me hanging around every second of every day. This isn't war any more, and anyway - " He smirks and leans forward. " - you're an admiral. Pull rank."

I roll my eyes. "That is _not_ how this works, Vakarian. They won’t just let us do what we want."

"Then invoke Shepard's rank," he counters.

I put my face in my hand. “You’re giving up too much for me.”

“I think it’s worth it.”

"Garrus, are you sure?"

He leans in the rest of the way and kisses me. "Oh, I'm sure. Have been for a while now. We make quite the team."

I answer by kissing him back, harder, and then pull him on top of me. We lose another one of those remaining hours in pure bliss. Then we make ourselves presentable and head up. We wait up in the CIC with everyone else for the dwindling minutes of our journey. If Kaidan is nervous at all he’s hiding it very well. He does look at us with a knowing smile when we make our appearance, but he graciously doesn’t say anything. At 0130 he calls general quarters and the rest of the crew joins us. It doesn't look like anyone else was sleeping either. Half an hour later, the _Normandy_ drops out of its jump and the galaxy map switches to the tactical map and forward camera.

There, plain as starlight, is the damaged Relay and over two dozen ships of mixed origin - asari, human, turian - as well as the flagship of the Heavy Fleet. The other quarian ships are our specialized modules which handle the Migrant Fleet’s construction and maintenance needs. It looks like a small portion of the bottom arm of the Relay broke away in the blast, but the Migrant construction ships have pulled it back into place using their mass field generators. The actuator rings are also being held in place just off to the sides. Even from several thousand clicks out we can see the sparks of the welding equipment. They look like they’re making incredible progress.

“Commander, we’re being hailed,” Samantha says.

“Patch them through,” Kaidan tells her.

 _“SSV_ Normandy _, this is Admiral Shala’Raan vas Rannoch, commanding the_ Neema _. Do you read me?”_ My heart skips inside me. The _Neema_! My ship! Home!

“Roger that, Admiral vas Rannoch var Neema,” Kaidan states smartly. I’m impressed. Our names and titles can be confusing for humans, and there must be a story of why my aunt is now in command of the _Neema_ instead of Admiral Han’Gerrel. “This is Commander Alenko of the Systems Alliance. On behalf of the crew of the _Normandy_ , we'd like to thank you for coming all this way and saving our asses.”

Laughter on the other end of the line. _“Acknowledged, Commander. It’s our pleasure.”_

Kaidan motions me over and I pick up the comlink. “Auntie Raan, it’s Tali. It’s so good to hear your voice!”

 _“Oh,_ keelah _,”_ she says. _“My dear, Tali! Thank the stars you’re alright! We’ve cleared you to dock in bay four. We’ll see you soon.”_

The _Normandy_ lands in the gaping forward hangar of the _Neema_ , and a ramp extends to the outer hatch. Kaidan and I are the first ones out, and a small delegation of the representative species meets us at the bottom. It’s all claps and handshakes with a few salutes thrown in for good measure. It’s such a mottled reception that there really isn’t any procedure that would work for all of us, so general celebration suffices. Auntie Raan pushes through to me and we embrace, laughing, before I remember my manners and introduce her to Kaidan.

“I’m sorry, Commander,” I say. “Admiral, this is Kaidan Alenko.”

“Commander, I’m pleased to make your acquaintance. It’s an honor to meet the second human Spectre and such an esteemed friend of Commander Shepard and Tali.”

“The pleasure’s mine, Admiral,” he says, smiling humbly and shaking her hand. “And you have the late Admiral Anderson to thank for everything Commander Shepard and I know.”

“Ah, you’ve been to a turian funeral,” she says approvingly. “Oh, is that General Vakarian with you?”

“It is,” I tell her then lower my voice conspiratorially. “And, Auntie, there’s more to tell along those coordinates later.”

“My, you have been busy. Well done, indeed,” she laughs with equal roguishness. Kaidan snorts and barely suppresses a grin, looking away to keep from meeting my eye.

“Alright, _Neema_ crew and associates,” she says, her suit amplifying her voice. “The _Normandy_ have had an extremely taxing journey. It’s back to quarters for all of you. Shift Three workers, lights out in thirty because it’s back out to the Relay at 0600. And shove that grumbling out the airlocks - you’ll have plenty of time to badger them later. Dismissed.”

The small crowd disperses while she and Kaidan round us up. “Commander Alenko, we’ve prepared private quarters for you and your crew. If you’ll follow us…”

* * *

The ships of the Heavy Fleet are famously uncomfortable, even for us. When you live your life in a bio-suit, things like soft fabric and plush anything don’t really matter. I’m mildly embarrassed that we won’t be able to offer anything better for my crewmates. We pass through a series of bulkheads and hallways, and then my embarrassment disappears. They’ve recreated a small luxury habitation module from one of the Live Ships on the _Neema_. It resembles a common city block divided into four quadrants of living quarters, separated by grassy lawns and waterways which are connected to a circulating pond with a fountain in the middle. The entire chamber isn’t particularly enormous, a cube less than fifty meters in each direction, but it’s so cunningly designed that it hardly feels like we’re on a ship at all. We as a people aren’t the least bit frivolous, but we still understand the need of beauty for beauty’s sake - so long as there’s still some function, of course. In this case, the form and function mean hospitality and oxygen generation. Still, such modules are an unspeakable luxury to us and are usually only reserved for our admirals and the rare visiting dignitary.

“Commander Alenko, your crew have the entire quadrant here to yourselves,” Auntie Raan says gesturing to the nearest on our left. “There’s plenty of space to spread out so you’re not packed in as tightly as you were on the _Normandy_.”

“That’s no fun for us,” Garrus mutters next to me. I elbow him in his ribs.

“My staff will show you the layout of the rooms and common areas. Commander Alenko, if you’re not too tired for a briefing tonight, I’d like a word with you.”

“This is perfect, Admiral, thank you,” Kaidan says. “Alright, everyone, since it’s late and we’ve come a long way, reverie at 0800 sharp. We’re not here to lounge around. Command crew, hang back for a minute. Everyone else, dismissed.”

Our numbers drop down to five - myself, Kaidan, Garrus, Liara, and James. Joker goes off with Steve instead of staying, which seems to irk Kaidan a little bit but he doesn’t call him back. The two pilots must be exhausted after the trip. Auntie Raan leads us over to a small courtyard with benches and tables.

“How loose do you play with classified information, Commander?” she asks, looking around at each of us. I know her tone is one of simple curiosity, but I fear Kaidan will take her words as a criticism.

“Well, Admiral, we’re a vessel operating under a mix of competing Systems Alliance regulations and Council Space laws as well as Spectre non-compliance,” Kaidan laughs. “We like to rely on the latter because we’ve found that the normal process and procedures of maintaining strict confidentiality end up hampering our efforts as a team. For lack of better words, those of us seated here are the ‘commissioned officers’. We share most information among ourselves. If something was handed down to you directly from Admiral Hackett for my ears only then that’s a different matter, but it’s safe to assume that anything else will be discussed just about immediately.”

Auntie Raan chuckles in response. “Then I’ll share no secrets, Commander. Although I suppose your and your crew have earned some of that leeway. Very well, we can proceed. Admiral Hackett did fill me in on the status of your communications before we left, so I don’t think I have any life-changing revelations for you. As of right now, the only functional Relays in the galaxy are Charon and Exodus. Construction teams like this one have also been dispatched to Serpent Nebula since it’s essential to reopening our routes to turian, asari, and krogan space. Councilors Irissa and Quentius have been accounted for on Thessia and Palaven, respectively. Aside from that, it’s safe to assume the entire galaxy has been thrown into chaos. The fleet commanders are operating under modified martial law until more reliable communications and civilian chains of command are reestablished.”

“And they decided to dedicate all these resources just to get us?” Liara asks.

“I volunteered first when Admiral Hackett informed us he’d made contact,” Auntie Raan says, and I can tell she’s smiling. “Your crew were unanimously deemed an indispensable resource for the reconstruction efforts, so I was appointed emissary by the Council and they wanted me to thank you for the crucial role you played in our victory.”

"We appreciate that, Admiral," Kaidan says.

"And we’ll be right back to work, it sounds like," Garrus sighs.

"Indeed, General," Auntie Raan confirms. "But I've already kept all of you long enough tonight, so I'll just tell you one thing more which does need to stay among yourselves. The reconstruction of the Relays, for now anyway, is relying on large portions of the Citadel and the Crucible because of the technological similarities. The Citadel itself suffered catastrophic damage in the blast, and it’s dead in orbit above Earth. This obviously has drastic implications for Council Space, and they're attempting to keep the galaxy as calm and orderly as possible while this is all happening. The last thing anyone wants to see happen now are widespread civil wars or territory grabs, so any information on reconstruction you may hear while on-board is restricted."

"That's a hell of a thing to keep under wraps, Admiral," James says.

"So far we're succeeding and we intend to keep it that way. Finally, you wouldn't have gotten the transmission while in transit, but we arrived here three days ahead of schedule. Our estimated completion time for the Relay is now four days instead of a week. With Dr. T'Soni here to advise us on Prothean and Reaper tech, I have a feeling we may be able to make it quicker yet."

We're all ecstatic at the news, Kaidan and James most of all. They’re so much closer now to getting back to their homeworld. And the rest of the crew may not be as far behind as we’d thought. Rannoch will take longer to get to, but then again none of us are even really used to the idea of having a homeworld again yet. What’s another few months travelling in the Migrant Fleet after all this time?

The others get up to thank Auntie Raan and then leave us. She and I shift to sit on the same bench and she takes my hand. “You should go rest, child.”

"I will, Auntie. But it's just so good to see you again, and I have so many questions. How is the Flotilla? How did you end up commanding the _Neema_?"

"It's a sad story. Are you sure you want to hear it tonight?" she asks and I nod.

"I just need to know how our people fared. We didn’t get a lot of details from Admiral Hackett.”

“The short of it is that we lost over half of the Heavy Fleet and three quarters of the Patrol Fleet,” she says bluntly, leaving me reeling. “Thankfully, we left the entirety of the Civilian Fleet in orbit above Rannoch. We’re still tallying the final loss of life from our part in the war with the Reapers, but we’ve already crossed the three million threshold.”

I’m stunned into silence. Three million out of seventeen. And the vast majority of them soldiers and technicians. We’ll be set back generations, longer if that number continues to rise. I can’t comprehend the devastation.

“I’m sorry, child.” She pulls me to her and I rest my head on her shoulder. “We knew the cost, and we paid it willingly for the sake of the galaxy. Everyone who went was a volunteer, and every captain served well. This is not the end of us. Now that we have Rannoch, we will recover. Slowly, yes, but we will thrive there.”

“I know. It’s just - _so many_. I can’t believe it. At least we didn’t lose the _Neema_.”

“No, but several hundred of the crew died after the Crucible fired.”

I sit back up, confused. “After it fired? How? Didn’t it only target high-functioning AI units?”

“It did,” she replies. “We brought thousands of geth to help with maintenance and to serve as shock troopers. We never had a chance to deploy them on Earth because we couldn’t get close enough to launch the drop ships, so they remained on board. When the Crucible blast caught up to us after we jumped to the Exodus rendezvous point, the geth all shorted out. That’s putting it lightly. If they were grouped together, the energy blast arced between them. Admiral Han'Gerrel was caught in one of these arcs and we couldn’t save him. He fought for two days but succumbed.”

My entire body goes numb. “That’s a terrible way to die. And to have it happen right when our victory was assured.”

“He knew we won. He only woke up once and his last words were ‘Did we get them?’ We told him yes and he smiled before going unconscious again. He didn’t wake up after that."

“And the geth - Auntie, the same happened to our ship’s AI unit. She died in the blast.”

“EDI, yes?” she asks me and I nod again. “I’ve wanted to ask you more about her. But the questions of the geth and AI units is something we should discuss tomorrow. I’ve already kept you from the general for too long.”

I laugh despite my new sadness. “You’re so bad!”

“But I’m not wrong either,” she teases. “I’m truly happy for you. Now, go, rest. We have plenty of time to talk and prepare for the future.”

She walks me to our apartment module and hands me off to one of her subordinates who then takes me up to the room Garrus chose. I go in and see he’s already asleep on one of the beds. I’m too tired to take my suit off, so I slip into the bed as gently as I can. He stirs a little and lifts his arm up. I lay up against his body and he hugs me to him.

“How bad?” he murmurs, still mostly asleep.

“Three million and counting. And a full third of our ships.”

He squeezes me tighter. “I’m so sorry. Do you want to talk now?”

“No. I just want to sleep. Tomorrow, maybe.”

“Alright. When you’re ready. I love you.”

“Thank you for being here with me. I love you, too.”

We sleep so well that we almost miss reverie. As we dress and get ready we realize just how exhausted we are. Without the numerous vital tasks of repairing the _Normandy_ to occupy our minds, the weight of everything finally sets in. And it seems it isn't just me and Garrus because breakfast with the crew is almost totally silent. Auntie Raan joins us but reads the room and doesn't try to make conversation beyond telling us that most of us aren't going to be any real use with today's operations. Liara, however, leaves quickly with a group of technicians to consult on the Relay reconstruction. Steve and Joker go back to the _Normandy_ with the engineering team to run post-flight diagnostics. James and Kaidan decide to use some of their downtime to go back to our habitation module's gym, and Garrus says that he needs to join them as part of Doctor Chakwas's physical therapy regimen. It was a tactful way of them giving me time alone with my auntie.

We talk for hours in the same courtyard as last night. Well, we talk for maybe fifteen minutes at a time before she has to answer a logistics call from the construction teams. Then we pick up again where we left off - remembering friends we've lost; planning Rannoch's future - as if it depended solely on our dreams.

"You know, my dear," Auntie Raan says, walking back to me after solving a tricky conductivity question with Liara. "You're well-positioned to permanently take your father's place on the Admiralty Board. You didn't hear it from me - at least not yet - but Admiral Daro'Xen vas Moreh is looking to retire as head of the Special Projects Fleet. She seems to think she'll never top her contributions to the Crucible, so why remain in the public light when she can never hope to outdo herself?"

"That sounds like her," I snort, shaking my head. " _Bosh’tet_ fool. Winning glory and political influence are the last things she should have been concerned about working on the Crucible."

"Indeed. And you, for all your accomplishments, are still humble and selfless in your service. Much like your father, if slightly less reckless with your methods.”

I can’t help but chuckle. “I’m not sure many would agree with you. I allied myself with Legion, after all, and I didn’t stop Commander Shepard from allowing them to advance themselves with the Reaper code fragment.”

“You did what you believed to be right, my dear. And if - ” She’s interrupted by a message on her omnitool which she answers quickly and swipes away. “If we’re going to discuss the geth, then I believe you should know about all the contributions they made before they were destroyed."

"'Killed'," I correct her. "They were fully self-actualized when they died in the Crucible blast. Legion’s sacrifice elevated them far beyond what we ever imagined they could be. They were alive."

"Semantics that still aren't shared by all," she counters, but then her tone softens. "Though I'm still training myself to speak of them as such. Thank you for correcting me."

“I didn’t mean to speak out of turn or contradict you.”

She pats my arm. “Tali, you knew them better than any now. And, frankly, it’s another reason I would see you on the Admiralty Board. ”

“What have they been saying about the geth?”

“About their deaths? Or what we’re going to do about them?”

“Yes, all of it. I imagine they’re as divided as always.”

“The latter remains to be seen. The Admiralty Board is in a state of flux, and it also remains to be seen what our new form of government and leadership will take once we’re no longer confined to the Migrant Fleet. As for the geth, Han’Gerrel had a change of heart about them after the battle above Rannoch so losing him has been a devastating blow. My position as head of the Heavy Fleet is not permanent, nor will I return to head of the Patrol Fleet despite pulling double-duty with both for now. I left Rannoch out of sheer necessity, and it’s there that I belong for the resettlement. With two positions currently unfilled and a third likely to open up, it would be madness if I didn’t lobby for your appointment. And considering your role in ending the war, I think it safe to assume you’d face little opposition. Unless, of course, you’re looking to other projects of a less… expected nature.”

Despite Legion’s sacrifice and the help the geth provided in finishing the Crucible, what I’m about to ask would be considered the highest treason by many of my people and probably a fair portion of the galaxy. “What if we bring them back?”

She shakes her head. “Tali, this isn’t the place to discuss such matters.”

“Auntie - ”

“It’s a dangerous notion, one that goes far beyond whatever friendship you had with the unit called Legion. And there’s Rannoch to consider. If our people are still looked upon with suspicion, even after everything we’ve done for the Council races, then we must make the difficult choice to look after ourselves. If the Rannoch plans are seen as an attempt to gain more control or pursue what you’ve suggested, we could face _dire_ opposition.”

My mind races ahead. “Yes, you mentioned their contributions. What are they? What did they do to change Han’Gerrel’s mind?”

She pauses and then leans in closer. “We didn’t have a long time to cooperate in peace. I regret that I didn’t take a firmer stance on their behalf. Still, in the time we had left they helped develop petabytes of sustainability plans for Rannoch’s resettlement - detailed weather maps, terraforming strategies and timetables, optimal agriculture schedules, city planning, and even projections on population growth taking into account variable health adaptations without our bio-suits.”

I’m absolutely dumbfounded. “I had no idea,” I whisper. “I’d heard mention of something like it, rumors that they were going to assist us, but this... That’s incredible!”

“It is, and so far everything we’ve been able to examine has checked out. There wasn’t any duplicity in their actions. Our future is laid out for us, and laid out well. I’ll give you an overview of it later today.”

“I’d be honored to see it, thank you.”

“Of course, my dear. You helped win our future and I trust you.” She takes my hand again. “However, if you were to ask the question you’ve just mentioned...”

She falls silent long enough that we’re interrupted again, this time with a question about eezo fluctuations and ship discharges. After she answers it, she stands and gazes into the fountain. I join her and she turns to me.

“Now that you know what’s at stake for us, the risk is incalculable,” she finally says. “Given everything we’ve just been through, I can’t even imagine what it would take to even attempt this. And, _Tali_ , it still begs the question: To what end?”

“Not to serve us. We know our mistake now, and we know these units have a soul,” I reason. “If it’s even possible, we'd bring them back to live alongside us and the rest of the galaxy as equals."

There's more to say, but she doesn't need my whole speech. And there’s another group of engineers approaching.

"Noble reasoning," she replies, shaking her head slightly. "Ever the idealist. Though some would call it foolishness. My dear, I’m sorry, but even I’ll take more convincing than that. Fixing an unanticipated loss is something that can rarely be achieved.”

"I know. But I'm hoping that Commander Shepard will be able to help me make my case. He brought peace between our two peoples at the most crucial moment. If anyone can help me convince the Admiralty Board and the Council, it's him."

"You’ve come so far and you're ready for so much more than you've done before, my dear," she responds. "Your father would be proud."

The engineering team pulls us away from the future and we spend the rest of the day overseeing the construction efforts. I've never seen so many non-quarians on one of our ships before. The level of cooperation and respectfulness is a welcome change indeed. If we can keep this attitude up, the galaxy will be a much better place for it. The only time I really see the rest of the crew is for meals. Kaidan gets to speak again with Shepard briefly for only the second time since we left Earth. His surgeries have gone well so far, but they've left him incredibly weak. It's still going to take a long time for him to fully recover from everything. I decide not to ambush him with questions of the geth right away when we get to Earth. He deserves a break from making galaxy-altering plans.

The Relay reconstruction surges forward with Liara's help and will be done in two more days. I guess she's found her next project for the time being. The rest of us wait, train, do whatever we can to occupy ourselves in the meantime. Being only a jump away from Earth means this is a more hurried waiting than before. James describes it as "so close you can taste it." Kaidan can hardly sleep or do anything that requires extended focus. I throw myself into the Rannoch plans. They’re so detailed and complicated that even my tech skills are stretched nearly to the end of what I've studied and worked with before. More than ever I wish I had EDI to help me sort through everything.

And all the while I consider the conversation my aunt. As I review the history of the geth’s development after the Morning War and the limited amount of tech information I’m authorized to have, I constantly second-guess myself and my own motivations. Am I doing this because of pride in my own abilities? Or because I genuinely believe the geth deserve a second life? Am I overestimating my skills and moral aptitude to make this decision? Would I continue if the project was unilaterally condemned? These are the questions that tear through my mind the entire time we're on the _Neema_ , so for me at least the time passes quickly.

The morning of our departure finally arrives. Except for one small quarian skiff which volunteered to make the jump and successfully confirmed that the Relay is fully functional, the _Normandy_ is the only ship going back to Earth today. The rest of this task force will remain in place until fresh supplies and volunteers are brought in before continuing on to the Caleston Rift. The Relay there is significantly closer than the Shadow Sea is to Earth, and is also more centrally located along the edge of the Attican Traverse and Terminus Systems. That entire section of the galaxy will start to open back up, including the Relays needed to get to Rannoch.

Auntie Raan sees us off with a traditional quarian blessing. She gives our captain - in this case, Kaidan - an ornate box containing small rations of food and water, an oxygen hood, and a microweight blanket. Each of these things symbolize the things necessary for space flight: sustenance, air, and shelter with a blanket standing in for a ship. It's an old ceremony stretching back millennia and used whenever a new ship is built or recommissioned. The return of the _Normandy_ does feel like the ship is taking the first flight of a new life. No, it's the reverse; this feels like the last flight of its current life. I suppose Shepard will ultimately use his position and authority to determine her fate and function for the next stage. That's one decision I don't think he'll mind. We, on the other hand, well who knows where we'll all end up. I hate thinking about it so I force my attention back to my aunt.

"Go with this blessing: may your charts guide you straight, your engines speed you on your way, and your spirits endure in the abyss," she says. “ _Esu se’lai_.”

Words we should all live by now that space travel has become so much more treacherous. Kaidan accepts the box, hands it to James, and then thanks my aunt. She steps to me and hugs me as the crew files onto the _Normandy_. Our parting words are quick seeing as we had another private meal earlier with Garrus. She approves, and she demonstrated it by grilling him on combat techniques and turian tactics before informing him that if he could handle it from her then he could take it from any quarian.

Once we're on board, we gather around the galaxy map. We already ran our pre-flight checks and everything is ready. Kaidan takes his place after returning rather quickly from the helm and locks in our course.

"Joker," he says. "Set course for Earth."

 _"Aye, Commander,"_ Joker replies. The _Normandy_ clears the docking bay and heads toward the Relay. Garrus takes my hand.

"Here we go," he says. I'm reminded again of how close of friends he and Shepard are. It's something no one else on the ship really has with him. Kaidan is obviously a different story. Speaking of, he's dressed in his Alliance blues and pacing like a caged varren. We may have to physically restrain him from bolting out the ship. I look around at everyone. We look pretty damn good for having been away for so long, if I say so myself.

 _"Hitting the Relay in three… two… one,"_ Joker says.

The trip should take all of two minutes. We drop out of our jump and Joker tells us we're on our final approach.

"Alliance crew, this is the acting captain,” Kaidan announces with a manic grin plastered on his face. “We're home."

Whatever else Joker says is drowned out by the cheering of the crew. The engineering team and I share a moment together, shaking hands and congratulating each other on getting the _Normandy_ back up to top condition. We'll still have some more work to do together, but I'm already feeling the pangs of future farewells even though we don't say anything of that nature. I'll miss them when we part ways.

We all file toward the airlock and feel the _Normandy_ touch down. The hatch opens, and like I predicted Kaidan sprints down the ramp before any of us can do anything else. The rest of the Alliance crew follows behind him but Garrus hesitates, looking back toward the helm before I put a hand on his shoulder.

"Joker will come when he's ready," I say. "Let's go."

We step out to thunderous applause. I raise my hand and wave to those gathered.

 _Goddamned heroes_ , Garrus had said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I promise we're almost to the actual, honest to goddess MShenko reunion. One more transit chapter stands in the way. May still be a bit of a week because after the next one the chapters starts to get significantly longer (fun for you, less so for me with editing). So thank you for you patience and your support!
> 
> And as always, a big thanks to my beta readers!


	11. Shepard 2 - Twenty-Seven Minutes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Commander Shepard and Admiral Hackett discuss the role he played in the end of the Reaper War and what might come next for him. Even as Shepard's recovery progresses and he begins to take stock of everything that happened, his guilt weighs ever heavier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> 
> 
> [ _Art by ThePixelAgora_ ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/thepixelagora)  
> 

_Stars shining bright above you;  
_ _Night breezes seem to whisper “I love you;”  
_ _Birds singing in the sycamore tree;  
_ _Dream a little dream of me._

The singer and band fill the dance hall with the dulcet tones of Ella Fitzgerald. I can’t even seem to remember the last few horrible weeks. They’ve passed away like comet trails next to a sun. Kaidan’s head is resting on my chest and our hands are wrapped warmly in each other’s as we sway in time to the music. We’re alone on the dance floor. Everyone else lines the sides of the room, watching. They may as well not even be there. It’s just him and me. Forever. The ceiling of the ship is clear and open so the moon and stars illuminate our faces.

You couldn’t ask for a more beautiful spot for a wedding reception.

_Say “nighty-night” and kiss me;  
_ _Just hold me tight and tell me you’ll miss me;  
_ _While I’m alone and blue as can be,  
_ _Dream a little dream of me._

Kaidan looks into my eyes and kisses me. But it’s a sad kiss; a farewell kiss. _No_. A dangerous shadow passes over us, killing the starlight. The music keeps playing. No one moves. Don’t they know what’s about to happen? The room is drowned in blood red light. There’s no panic. No action. Not a single missed note. I clutch at my new husband harder. The death noise thunders down. There’s still no reaction from anyone. And while we dance, while he’s still in my arms, Kaidan burns in their fires and disappears into ashes.

_Stars fading but I linger on, dear,  
_ _Still craving your kiss.  
_ _I’m longing to linger ‘til dawn, dear,  
_ _Just saying this._

I look at my hands and arms. They’re glowing blue, transparent. And then I understand - I am the Catalyst. I am eternal. I am infinite. I am immortal, and I will lose all of them. Some will live decades yet - a blink of the eye. The centuries Wrex and Grunt will live are nothing to me; even the millenium of Liara’s life is just a flash. All true memory of me will disappear. But I will remain and I will always be alone. I have never known true horror until now. It would have been infinitely better if I had died.

_Sweet dreams ‘til sunbeams find you;  
_ _Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you;  
_ _But in your dreams whatever they be,  
_ _Dream a little dream of me._

The last verse mocks me and everything around me fades. I will be forgotten, but I will never forget. No one will dream of me or long for me. But every word, every kiss, every moment will be with me until the end of time. The song ends. The stars disappear. I last, alone again.

A voice speaks out of the darkness.

_~ “Vitals stable. He's regaining consciousness.” ~_

The last notes of Ella fade and my eyes blink open. The lights overhead brighten and the bed raises so I’m sitting. It takes me a minute to get my bearings. I’m back in my recovery room, and my right leg has a cast covering my knee from half of my thigh to half of my calf. Despite my advanced physiology and the implants working overtime, some of the bone cancer progressed faster than we thought it would and I shattered my knee getting up to take a walk. They rushed me in for an emergency surgery to finish flushing out the pockmarked bone and marrow and replacing it with a fresh batch of synthetic hybrid.

“You know, Doc,” I groan. “Much as I love Ella, there’s gotta be an easier way for us to find time to listen to her.”

Doctor T’Miri smiles. “My team’s new goal is to get through the entire discography of Earth’s First Swing and Jazz period. Considering you’re looking at at least another four procedures, I think we’ll also start Early Rock and Roll as well.”

“Please, just anything but Disco, Old _or_ Modern. And for the love of God, no ABBA either,” I say and the eight doctors present laugh.

"Not to worry, Commander. The Council banned torture over two thousand years ago," Doctor Taejor laughs.

“But four more surgeries don't fall under that purview?”

“ _At least_ four, yes,” T’Miri responds. “And please save the dramatics, Commander. You've already had five times that number, and most of them, like today’s, were scopic and hardly invasive. If you'll kindly recall, we replaced half of your internal organs in the last week. Your cloned lungs, liver, and stomach have been accepted and are thriving. The blood and bone cancers are, unfortunately, being more stubborn.”

“Sounds like you mispronounced ‘still actively trying to painfully kill you.’" I mutter.

“Par for the course, eh, Commander?” one of the human doctors, a Québécoise named Valerie Desjardins says. I’m finally learning their names, and we’re all getting on just fine. “Wouldn’t it be boring otherwise?”

“Boring for who?” I ask, and my grin turns into a grimace as I shift my weight. “Even though I enjoy all of your company, I’m getting a little tired of all the excitement.”

“We do have some genuinely good news from Admiral Hackett,” T’Miri says. “It’s why we brought you out instead of letting you rest longer.”

“Yeah?” I ask and pull myself a little higher. Well, I attempt It. I feel like I'm made of glass right now. Has it been a week yet? The days have all blurred together and I’ve lost all track of time. God, _please,_ let it be the _Normandy_.

"We've just received word from the quarian ship _Neema_. The _Normandy_ has arrived at the Shadow Sea Relay without incident."

I raise my fists in silent victory and let my head fall back with a laugh. I knew they could do it. I don't even have words for my pride in them.

_Kaidan, I'm so fucking proud of you!_

"Is there anything else? Did they give an estimate of when the Relay will be finished?" I ask.

"Their estimate is now four or five days. Admiral Shala'Raan is hoping that Doctor T'Soni's expertise will help speed things up, but that’s all Admiral Hackett told us," T'Miri replies. "We're clearing you to leave the med bay the day after tomorrow for a _brief_ call with your crew if tonight's procedure goes well.”

“That would be great, thanks. What’s on the docket tonight?”

“Minor nerve procedure,” Taejor says. “To repair part of the right optic nerve. After that we’ll have a better idea about your eyesight.”

The team’s silence on this piece of my recovery has spoken volumes. And they still haven’t taken my head bandage off, at least not while I’m awake.

T’Miri pats my hand. “Alright, Commander, we’re going to leave you now. You've got a few hours to rest, and then we'll be back.”

I nod my thanks and they leave. I’m groggy, but not actually tired enough to go back to sleep. Both options terrify me because I’ve started to hate this room.

It’s too fucking quiet with the weight of the war still bearing down on me.

It's been two, sometimes three surgeries a day since I last talked with Kaidan. There wasn't any other option because of how absolutely wrecked my body is. If the Crucible- or Catalyst-induced cancer had hit my brain, it would have been game over. I'd have survived the war but not the aftermath. I'm barely living as it is. At least when Cerberus put me back together I was technically dead or at least unconscious until the very end. Now I feel every needle prick, laser incision, and cauterization. Not to mention the absolutely bizarre and aggravating sensation of itching from the inside because of the surgical nano-drones in my bloodstream shoring up my immune system and targeting the diseased marrow and white blood cells. They're constrained to my limbs by magnetic fields so they don't interfere with my heart's current, but that hardly makes a difference because my torso is solid discomfort and tight pain. I caught a look at myself in a mirror and I’m sure I've lost a good ten kilos of muscle mass. It's gonna be a pain in the ass getting it back. All in all, it's a lot of effort to keep me around.

I shift my body, trying to sit further back, and the bandage around my head snags against the pillow. I flinch as it smarts against the base of my skull where my amp port used to be, and that’s all it takes to make my eyes water and my jaw tremble. I fight to remind myself there’s nothing there now.

They've been monitoring my brain scans and non-neural implants for any residual effects of the Catalyst's hijacking efforts. So far nothing. Nothing like before, anyway, when I was literally fighting for my sanity and identity. Now it's just dreams like the one of the wedding night where Kaidan is killed. Or ones where the _Normandy,_ the SR-2 as it is now, is destroyed and I walk the halls and CIC as my crew is killed off one by one, blown out of hull breaches or disintegrated by Reaper weapons. Others where cities from half a dozen planets fall around me as I walk streets haunted by Husks and other abominations and the dead. In each dream I'm tormented by the choices I didn't make on the Crucible. Sometimes I'm the new Catalyst; in others I'm a full synthetic-hybrid. No matter what, everything I love is taken from me and dies.

I clench the call-button attached to the bed, warring against myself, willing myself to push all of it aside so I don’t hit the button and take any of my doctors away from helping everyone else just because I need some company. My omnitool’s also gone so I can’t even attempt to distract myself with work, though I’m sure I’m locked out of everything per Hackett’s insistence on keeping me relaxed and apparently checking on the status of anything outside of this damn room doesn’t follow that protocol. I drop the button over the side of the bed to remove the temptation. I close my eyes, force myself to try to breathe evenly and think about Kaidan. This tactic works for all of thirty seconds before the door opens and Taejor rushes in.

“Commander, is everything alright? Your monitor signalled you need assistance.”

“I - did it? All I did was drop the button.”

She smiles at me and bends to pick it up. “It’s programmed to sense proximity to your biometrics and will go off in the event you drop it. Although...” She pauses, looking at one of the displays. “Hmmm. Heart rate is elevated, other metrics suggest stress even though you’re resting. _Is_ everything alright?”

“Besides, uh - ” I snort laughter and gesture from my head down my body.

She smiles and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Waiting is difficult, especially in recovery. I’m sorry it can’t be faster, Commander.”

“Thanks.” Since my own stubbornness got her here anyway, I stop caring about trying to feel strong. “Doctor, would you think less of me if I said I’m lonely?”

“Not at all. Can be dispiriting being alone after so long with your crew. Not a substitution, but I’m happy to keep you company for a while if you wish.”

I nod smally, careful not to bump the back of my head. “I’d appreciate that. Just for a while so I don’t keep you too long.”

“Of course. Anything you wish to talk about?”

I think for a minute and then smirk. “Doctor-patient confidentiality, right? You don’t get to tell anyone anything I don’t want you to?”

“Correct, unless it threatens your wellbeing.”

“And if it’s the best thing for my well-being?”

“Ah. Are we discussing, er, non-medical matters now? Perhaps one Commander Alenko?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Then you have my full confidence, Commander,” she chuckles.

Now it’s my turn to smile and I close my eyes briefly, picturing his gently confident face and the smirk that always starts in his whisky amber eyes. “I’m going to marry him, Doctor. As soon as we can get around to asking each other and he says yes.”

“Wonderful. Tell me about him?”

“He’s the only person in the galaxy more stubborn than I am, and one of the only ones who can call me on my shit and get me to listen.”

We talk for a while, probably not even an hour, before I start drifting off. The conversation fades in and out as Taejor switches out my IV bags and injects another dose of my meds. They must help knock me out because when I come to after the next surgery I don’t even remember waking when the doctors returned to start in on me again. Taejor and T’Miri inform me that Admiral Hackett will be stopping by in the morning to talk with me. I nod and then plunge back into my nightmares.

* * *

I wake up again - fully, not just in a post-anesthetic daze - and Hackett is pacing in my room, reading a datapad. I only have a moment to marvel at how clear his eyes look for how haggard his expression is before he catches my movement.

“Good evening, Commander. Or, good morning. I have to say it’s been hard to keep track lately, but you having a private hospital wing is the perfect place for me to hide and catch up on some work. Are you feeling up for a talk?”

"Yes, Admiral." I try to salute and my right arm won't really rise. I look down and groan. There's a cast over my shoulder and forearm. "Shit, again?"

"I'm afraid so, son," Hackett says. "The original break healed, but it cracked when they moved you last night. It’s just a hairline fracture, so the shoulder cast is just to weigh the arm down and remind you not to move it at all.”

I sigh. “Wonderful. Used to be I could take a dead hit from a Brute and just dust it off.”

“We could always procure you a set of N7 armor if you’d like it for the added protection.”

“That’ll do, sir,” I chuckle. “Just charge it to the Council.”

I get him to laugh at least. He probably hasn’t since - well, for all I know, it might not have ever happened before. Then the thought hits me.

“There _is_ still a Citadel Council, right?”

“There is, as far as the asari and turians are concerned. Councilors Irissa and Quentius are on their way as soon as the Serpent Nebula Relay is completed. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves here.”

“Yes, sir.”

He moves a chair closer and takes his seat. “The good news from what I'm reading here is that there’s only one more scheduled operation, and the bone grafting in your knee has taken hold so you’ll be moving on to a knee brace tomorrow. You’ve put up a hell of a fight, and it looks like you're over the worst of the initial trauma.”

"With respect, Admiral, it sure as hell doesn't feel like it," I say.

"The doctors say you'll be feeling that way for a while, but that at this point it's more chronic exhaustion from all the procedures and recovery than anything else."

"Killing me to save me?”

"In a sense, that's entirely true," he replies. "You're now host to marrow from eight different donors, synthetic-hybrid bone fragments from another twenty-eight - with almost two kilos of titanium alloy plating to keep them locked together - and they've literally lost track of how many blood donors have contributed. All of it has been volunteered by wounded or recently deceased soldiers, and all of it came with the instruction: 'For the Shepard'."

“‘For the Shepard’? Those exact words, with the definite article, sir?” He nods and I blanche. “Yeah, that’ll need to stop right now. Makes it sound like a cult.”

“Far easier said than done. You have no idea how much _more_ hope and inspiration are tied to your name now,” he tells me quietly. “Ever since word leaked about your miraculous survival, we’ve had to section off this wing of the medward under armed guard to keep the masses away.”

“Make sure to send those guards in here at some point so I can thank them for helping me get rest, sir.”

“I’ll do that. Speaking of rest, have the dreams stopped?”

I shake my head. “No, they’re just as vivid and frequent.”

“And the same things? Your crew dying? The Catalyst torturing you for your choice?”

“Mostly the same things, but the Catalyst himself isn’t in them. In some of the dreams, I’m the Catalyst as if I chose Control. In others I’ve chosen Synthesis and taken everyone’s choice. In any case, everyone I love dies and I remain behind. It’s like nothing I chose made any lasting difference to anyone. I know we’ve only talked a few times, briefly, since the first time I told you what happened on the Crucible. I’ve tried to compartmentalize it as much as I can so I can recover and think on the consequences later, like you said to do. But in my sleep and surgeries where I have no control, it all rushes back, sir.”

Hackett rubs his eyes and considers me.

“I’ve second- and triple-guessed every command decision I’ve ever made, son. Sometimes it’s helped me make better decisions later. Most of the time it’s just kept me awake at night and angry at myself. Unfortunately, it’s part of higher command. And you had to make a choice under the most grievous of circumstances that I would have struggled with for weeks and months without coming to an adequate answer.”

“Garrus - General Vakarian - and I called it ‘ruthless calculus’,” I say. “Can our outcome justify our losses? If the outcome outweighs the losses, can we live with the cost afterwards? Those are the two questions we’d ask each other before every op, before every major campaign we took part in. Where would _we_ draw the line? If the line was drawn for us, could we find a way around it? In that ruthless calculus, one life meant everything and nothing.”

“One life could tip the equation either way,” Hackett nods knowingly. “The cold logic of the math could be defied entirely in favor of that life or upheld without question. That’s a calculation no computer or AI could make because they can’t operate outside of such logic, which is why on some level I will never trust them completely no matter how sentient they are. But it’s why I trusted you. Holding that ruthless calculation in tension with your gut instincts and abilities is what makes you the best damn soldier I’ve ever seen, not to mention one of the best people I’ve ever known. You changed the equations in ways no one could have seen coming, and you won outright a hell of a lot more than you lost.”

“And with my choice on the Crucible I negated years of my own work, not to mention that of others,” I counter defiantly. “Admiral, I killed - ”

“Commander, let me finish,” he orders but not unkindly. I recognize the pause he takes. It’s one I’ve had to use many times before giving soul-crushing news and I’m deciding how to word it. “I’ve been mulling over what the Catalyst told you that day. And you’re certain - absolutely certain - about what it said about the option to Destroy?”

I nod. “Yes, Admiral. I won’t ever forget a single moment of what happened. It said, ‘All synthetics will be targeted’ and ‘Your Crucible device appears to be largely intact. However, the effects of the blast will not be constrained to the Reapers’. Does that mean something to you, sir?”

He sighs heavily. I catch just a glimpse of the weight he bears himself, and then it disappears from his eyes and they turn hard again. “It does, and it won’t be easy to hear. Are you certain you want to have this conversation now?”

_No, I can’t even stand the thought of it._

But I force myself to answer. “Yes, sir.”

“Alright, then there are a few more things you need to know - the first being that we’re never going to have a complete answer for what happened that night. There was too much chaos, too much lost in the fog of war despite all our planning. Second, even with all the incredible minds we had working on it the Crucible project was too complex, too rushed, too downright _alien_ for us to totally understand. But we did our best and we won by the skin of our teeth. That said, we only achieved an estimated ninety-three percent effectiveness before we had to deploy. We simply ran out of time, son, and that’s not on you. Anything less than the force you rallied would have made everything else moot, and waiting any longer would have risked losing Earth entirely. And on top of dealing with the deadliest enemy the galaxy has ever known, we had to account for any direct sabotage to the Citadel interface by Cerberus and the Illusive Man after they joined with the Reapers.

“Then factor in the Catalyst and all bets are off. Maybe it even sabotaged the device by making it target all synthetics as a deterrent. We know from Doctor T’Soni’s work that the Protheans fought over destroying the Reapers or controlling them, so it stands to guess that they at least theorized about those options even if they never had a chance to use the Crucible. Perhaps synthesis was locked to them and there was some factor ever so slightly more advanced in our cycle that allowed for it. This is all hypothetical, of course, but does that seem reasonable to you?”

“That something in our cycle could have changed the Catalyst’s ruthless calculus? Even infinitesimally and without us knowing? By one life?” I don’t even want to consider the possibility that I could have been responsible for something so monumental, that even my smallest actions could have affected things so drastically.

 _Or I’m entirely too fucking full of myself_.

Still, Hackett nods again. “I doubt it factored you into its equations, Shepard. Or it did but too late. Or there’s something else entirely that we’ll never know about. Maybe that part is best left to some philosophically-minded mathematician to figure out someday.”

“That’s all well and good, sir, and I agree that we won by some razor’s edge, even by a micron of difference. And maybe things will be clearer in the future, but - ” My face suddenly screws up and I fight for composure. He doesn’t rush me, but he also doesn’t make any move to comfort me. I force my lungs open. “Admiral, that doesn’t matter _now_ , not in light of what I did.”

Hackett’s face falls. “It shouldn’t have fallen on your shoulders like that, Shepard.”

“I’m not - I’m sorry, Admiral, I don’t understand. There wasn’t any other choice. Isn’t that what you keep telling me?”

“There wasn’t, no. What I mean is that I never intended to put you in that kind of position, completely cut off from the chain of command. It’s why I sent Anderson with you. At that stage - with everything on the line - I wasn’t taking any chances, so I doubled-up on personnel with the only other person I trusted as much as you in case something went wrong. You played your part, Commander. You took the control room and opened the station so the Crucible could dock. As soon as that happened, the Crucible was supposed to arm itself and fire. That’s what it was designed to do. Until the automatic firing sequence failed, we thought everything was going according to plan. The Catalyst must have stopped it. That’s the only conclusion I can think of. When we lost contact with you, I thought we’d failed utterly. I was wrong. When the plan failed, when the sequence failed, that hellish decision fell on your shoulders and for that I’m truly sorry. You took on the burden and did what had to be done, ”

He pauses and watches me. I can’t find anything to say to all of that. There’s nothing _to_ say. Everything went to shit and then some. But this - _Fuck,_ as bad as things have gotten before, I’m not sure I can come back from this. And I have to tell Kaidan. My chest tightens and my hands start shaking.

“Commander?”

I blink out of my stupor. “Admiral, I - I’m sorry, sir.”

“Take your time, son. What else do you need to know?”

“What would Anderson have chosen?” The question bursts out of my mouth before I can stop it. But Hackett’s answer is just as quick.

“He would have done his duty. He would have destroyed them, regardless of the cost. That was the mission.”

I turn away and squeeze my eyes shut. Everything feels so forgone, inevitable. Hackett’s hand moves to my shoulder.

 _“Commander_.”

I force in a shuddering breath and sit up straighter.

“Admiral, what do I do now?” I whisper. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I know, Shepard, and that’s why I’m here. Now, I need you to listen because this is vitally important. Everything moving forward depends on it. Do you understand me?”

I swallow hard and nod. “Yes, Admiral.”

“Very good." Hackett leans down to whisper in my ear. My eyes widen as I listen and I pull back to protest.

"Sir, I _can't_ \- "

"It's already been done." He straightens up and takes his hand from my shoulder. He reaches behind him, pulls out a steelbook, and hands it to me. “This is your official pardon, Shepard, jointly handed down from Alliance High Command and the Citadel Council. High Command signed it blind and right now we’re under martial law until a new Alliance Parliament is elected. I’ll see to it that they accept the document when the body is reconvened. The Council thought it a waste of time given your Spectre status and the fact you’ve been right about everything since Saren.”

I open it with my biometrics and look at the bound document, a heavy _paper_ document, bearing both governing bodies’ official emblems. I take it in my left hand and stare at it. This isn’t -

“With the utmost respect, Admiral, this is wrong,” I croak. “ _Any_ legitimate tribunal would find me guilty of war crimes - of genocide, at the very least.”

“Perhaps. Unless the tribunal were unconvinced of the geth’s sentience, and Alliance law prevents you from arguing that point because you’re protected from condemning yourself. There are no existing conventions protecting synthetics, so after a months-long trial you would be found innocent and we’d have done is drag you through _more_ mud for nothing.”

My jaw clenches. “It wouldn’t be my first inquest, Admiral.”

“Too true. Alright, if you insist, here’s your first question. You remember everything in remarkable detail considering your condition at the time. How long do you think you were on the Citadel before the Crucible fired?”

“I don’t know, sir. I’d guess close to an hour.”

“Twenty-seven minutes. That’s it, Shepard. As near as we can determine from the combat clock, twenty-seven minutes from when you entered the Conduit until the Crucible fired. The number of people in the galaxy who need a full accounting of that time is extremely tiny. It’s going to stay that way, and here’s why. Four years of your life, four years of indescribable struggle - hell, you know what two of those years were - led to that twenty-seven minutes. And all of that boiled down to one moment, a single instant when you made your decision and saved the galaxy. You could have given up at any point before then and everything would have been lost. You could have failed at any point in those four years, surrendered during those twenty-seven minutes, failed to act in that single instant, but by God you didn’t.”

Hackett leans in again, and his voice drops even lower, harder than steel. “So after everything you’ve been through? After all you’ve suffered and sacrificed and overcome so a trillion souls might live? I can’t think of anything less just, anything more unfair to you than a spectacle in which your grief would be put on full display for the entire galaxy to see. I simply will not allow such a travesty to occur, nor will I allow it to destroy the rest of your life.”

I open my mouth to protest again, and Hackett cuts me off. “It’s _done_ , Commander. And the pardon will stand.”

I glance at the steelbook again and let it drop to my lap. But I don’t let it go. “Frankly, Admiral, it doesn’t do much to absolve me in my own mind.”

“Of course it doesn’t. These things never do, but it'll help you hold together until you figure out a way to live with what happened. And with so many eyes on you, not scrutinizing your decisions but looking to you for leadership, it’s absolutely necessary. It can never be revoked by anyone under any circumstances. That’s their gift to you, son, and I have one myself.”

Hackett’s hand returns to my shoulder like a vice.

“I can’t repay you for the part of your soul you’ve sacrificed, for what you’re suffering now, but I can promise you one thing: If it ever gets out, if anyone you don’t want to know _ever_ finds out, I will take the fall and your name will remain clear. I will tell whoever I need to that I gave you a direct order to Destroy. I will tell them that you hesitated and formally protested, and then I will tell them that I gave a direct order to override your Cerberus neural implants and forced you to comply. We then removed your implants to cover up any evidence.”

I’m taken aback by the look in his eyes. The intensity and shrewdness terrify me. “I can’t let you do that, Admiral,” I whisper.

“You can’t stop me from doing it,” he corrects. “The idea occurred to me a few days ago, and I decided it was the only way. The inspiration came from the Catalyst’s hijacking; at least it was good for something. So, that’s my gift to you, Commander. I swear your name will remain clear. I swear it on my life, on the lives of my children and grandchildren. I swear that you will be able to live out the rest of your life free from the fear of it being taken from you because of one impossible decision that you were forced to make. You’re free to work for your own absolution however you see fit, and it will be seen as heroism rather than penance. But remember that you get to enjoy this new galaxy as much as the next person - more so, even. You deserve happiness, so let someone else do something for you for once. Now, nod to show me you understand what I’ve just told you.”

I blink stupidly at him and clutch the steelbook tighter. He’s committed himself to me entirely and in doing so has broken every military, ethical, and legal code in existence. He’s putting absolutely everything on the line for me - his legacy, his character, maybe even the Alliance’s place in the galaxy. It doesn’t absolve me, but it shares the burden. There aren’t any words I could possibly say to thank him. I nod smally.

“Good. and it should go without saying that I would greatly appreciate it if you don’t ever let it go that far.”

“Of course, Admiral, but there’s still one problem - my crew will never believe me. They know me too well, and they’ll know I’m hiding something from them. At the very least, I have to tell Kaidan everything.”

“Personally, son, I _strongly_ advise against it,” Hackett sighs. “As difficult as it is to consider, the story will become impossible to control if too many people know. Although, if you feel it absolutely necessary and they have your absolute and undeniable trust, it would be best - easiest - if you left out the Catalyst’s choices and limited your actions to firing the Crucible which is in line with your then-standing order: find a way to destroy the Reapers. If that explanation isn’t good enough for them, refer them to me and I’ll confirm your story privately.”

I nod again. “Thank you, sir.”

“Alright. I’ll hold on to this until you get more settled. And now we do need to talk about what you’re going to do next,” he says, taking the steelbook from me and leaning back. Hackett’s ability to switch his tone back to such casualness puts the Illusive Man to shame. And at the same time it’s clear that we’re never going to talk about his offer ever again.

“I don’t know, sir,” I say. My tone is shaky and needs some work. “I haven't had much time to think since it all ended, and with respect, Admiral, this has been a lot to take in today.”

“I understand completely and we’re running short on time, so I’ll keep this brief for now. Do you see yourself resigning your post with the Alliance navy?”

“Do I remember something about you offering a decade of shore leave?”

“Or longer,” Hackett chuckles. “No one would begrudge you early retirement. Certainly not with your injuries.”

“Right.” I don’t even want to think about the kind of reconditioning it’ll take me to get me back to fighting shape. Or if that’s even possible. But still... “Sir, I guess it depends on what my recovery looks like. That decision may already be out of my hands. In any case, I can’t decide anything until Kaidan gets back and we have a chance to regroup.”

“Fair enough. Then I’m going to pass along your regards to High Command and your assurances that your decision won’t be made until well the _Normandy_ returns, which gives you at least two days before they start hounding you.”

“Two days, sir? They told me it would be four or five. I wasn’t out that long again, was I?”

“No, and I apologize for not checking to see if you’d been informed. Since the construction flotilla arrived early and Doctor T’Soni’s help helped bolster the Relay repairs, they cut two more days off the estimate. That said, between now and then I’m going to arrange another time for us to talk about your future. And I'm sending you an aide tomorrow, one of mine, a brilliant doctoral student out of Oxford by way of Arcturus - Lieutenant Örjan Eriksson. They’ve spent time on every Council homeworld; really an incredible mind for interspecies relations and politics. I brought them on to assist with the coalition fleet. They'll be able to answer some of your questions about the state of the galaxy right now. I’m sure that will also inform your decision.”

“Right,” I breathe. “BIg hero stuff and all that. I guess it’s too much to hope that galactic expectations for me are a little lower at this point?”

“The only expectation on you that matters right now is your recovery. Rest, and remember that you picked a hell of a team, son. Keep them close so they can help you.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

Hackett’s omnitool lights up. “And speaking of, do you feel up for a quick call with them now? I thought it could be a nice reprieve after everything else we had to discuss.”

“Yes, sir, that would be good,” I say. Hackett speaks into his omnitool and summons my doctors.

“Oh, and now that word about you and the _Normandy_ is starting to leak, we’ll have an escort up to the bridge even though it’s practically fourth shift.”

“That seems excessive, Admiral,” I say and then go quiet. There’s a thundering noise down the hall coming toward us, heavy footfalls pounding the deck. I think I sprain my left wrist reaching for a holster that I’m not even wearing. But then I recognize the sound. “Oh, this is _entirely_ too excessive, sir.”

“You’ve tried keeping them calm and orderly. How well did that ever really work out for you?” he asks sardonically. The door bursts open and two giants rush in.

**“Shepard!!!”**

“Well, look what the rachni dragged in,” I laugh. “You two scared the shit out of me.”

The two krogan boom with laughter.

 **“Heh heh heh, you’ve still got it, Old Man,”** Grunt says.

 **“Pfuhhh, ‘Old Man’, he says,”** Wrex replies. **“Watch your quads, Whelp. You might have survived Earth and the Reapers, but you still wouldn’t survive me.”**

Grunt looks like he’s about to headbutt Wrex right next to me, and I’ve never feared more for my lift. I shout them down before he can even take one step. “Grunt! Wrex! _Not in here!_ Your Battlemaster has already had twenty-two surgeries, and he doesn’t need anymore.”

Grunt takes a few steps back and almost knocks a monitor over. I can’t help but laugh again. “Wrex, is he really still a ‘Whelp’ after winning his part of the battle?”

 **“That’s right, Shepard. Whelp here got through _one_ war. Still has a long way to go before he’s not ‘Whelp’ or ‘Baby Pyjak’ anymore,” **Wrex says and then eyes me up and down. **“ The Admiral here hasn’t told us much and the doctors are afraid of us. You look like hell.”**

 **“Have you looked in a mirror lately, Fossil?”** Grunt fires back. The three of us laugh. It’s nice to see some things haven’t changed.

“I’m getting there and I couldn’t ask for a better escort, guys,” I say. “But let’s get a move on, yeah?”

Right on cue some of my doctors come in and check my vitals again before we go. They transfer me gingerly from the bed to a lounging wheelchair gurney that keeps my right leg elevated. Wrex pushes and Grunt takes point. This time we only have to go down to a lift and up to the _Denali’s_ bridge since her QEC is fixed and transmitting with the _Neema_. The krogan ribbing continues the whole way. I only catch snippets of their stories between insults and laughing. Their losses were heavy on Earth, too. Not many of their warriors are making it back to Tuchanka except in body bags. And it sounds like Eve is just about ready to give birth. I’d hate for Wrex to miss it, so I hope we can get him back there soon.

The bridge is mercifully quiet, and by that I mean it’s only at one-third normal wartime personnel capacity. A solid forty technicians and officers are there monitoring their stations. They jump to attention when one calls “Admiral on deck,” and Hackett acknowledges them. Despite his presence and my hulking escort, all of their eyes on me. Half just gape while the rest look like they want to cry. I wonder if it’s even going to be possible to nip this whole legend thing in the bud.

“Lieutenant Eriksson,” Hackett calls suddenly. “Clan Chief, would you wait a moment?” He steps away from us toward an officer huddled over a console being monitored by a junior tech officer.

 **“Admiral Hackett’s giving you a new aide?”** Wrex asks me.

“Looks like it, yeah. He may be setting me up for a project or something.”

 **“Good,”** Wrex laughs. **“Too much work to do for you to be lying around all day, and I’ve met Eriksson. They’re good at their job.”**

It’s all he can say with half the bridge still still watching us instead of focusing on their work. And in any case, Hackett and the LT are already walking back toward us. Eriksson is tall, slender for a soldier so I’m guessing navy over marines, with wavy blonde hair buzzed around the sides and prominent cheeks too full to be gaunt but too graceful to be called angular. Despite the late hour, their violet eyes are still sharp and inquisitive. And I’m grateful that they don’t seem starstruck in the least.

“Commander Shepard, this is the aide I was telling you about. Lieutenant Eriksson, I hardly need to introduce the Commander.”

“An honor, Commander Shepard.” They snap a salute and their composure falters for the briefest moment when they realize I can’t properly return it.

“Don’t worry about it, Lieutenant,” I smile as I extend my left hand. They straighten even more, somehow, as they bend to return the gesture. “Admiral Hackett tells me we might be spending a lot of time together in the next few weeks.”

Eriksson dips their head. “Yes, Commander, if you find my assistance valuable.”

“I’m sure I will with your background,” I offer. “And just so I know before they arrive, how should I have my enlisted and command crew refer to you, Lieutenant Eriksson?”

“Both ‘sir’ and ‘they’ are perfectly acceptable, Commander. Or simply ‘Lieutenant’.”

“Great, thank you.”

Eriksson smiles slightly and dips their head again. “Thank you, Commander. I hope your recovery - ”

We’re interrupted by another officer who approaches Hackett.

“Excuse me, Admiral. We’ve received another cache from Thessia, and the Pan-African Union’s Premier has an update on their supply lines.”

“Thank you, Major,” Hackett replies and turns back to us. “I’m sorry, Shepard, I need to take this. Lieutenant, would you please accompany the Commander to my QEC and see that he’s set up with the officer on-duty?”

“Yes, Admiral. Clan Chief Urdnot Wrex, would you be so kind as to follow me?”

Wrex wheels me to a side chamber where Hackett’s office and private QEC are located. Eriksson and the comm tech set up the call, then both of them and my krogan escort leave once the connection is established.

 _“Damn, you’re a sight for sore eyes - oh,_ hell _, Shepard,”_ Kaidan says.

“I look that bad, huh?” The camera is angled down so it captures my face and most of my chest. It doesn’t hide the fact that my hair is basically gone, and I have dark circles under my eyes and bruised, blotchy skin.

_“Are you in a hospital or a prison?”_

“Both, I think,” I laugh. “I’ve been under for twenty-two surgeries, Kaidan. They haven’t let me go anywhere yet.”

_“But you’re okay? Tell me you’re okay.”_

“All things considered, I’m doing alright. They’re saying that I’m over the worst of it. One last surgery tomorrow. It’ll still be a while before I’m really back on my feet.”

 _“You know I’ll do everything I can to make that happen when I get there,”_ he says and then smirks. _“Of course, some of what we like to do doesn’t require you to be on your feet.”_

I laugh. “Well, I’ve certainly missed that particular extracurricular activity.”

_“Oh, good, so the entire Alliance isn’t all lined up outside your room trying to steal you away from me?”_

“Who says it’s just the Alliance? And I didn’t say they aren’t. I have stuff from over forty men inside me right now - oh, sorry, you meant sex. See, I was talking about my incredibly romantic bone marrow transplants. No one ever tells you about all the real perks of being an Alliance hero. People just love a guy in a hospital gown. All they’d have to do is get past two extremely protective krogran and roll me away.”

 _“Bone marrow had better not be a euphemism - wait, do you mean Wrex and Grunt? They made it?”_ Kaidan exclaims.

“Yeah, I just found out they’ve been guarding the hospital wing almost the whole time I’ve been here. I think they may have had a competition to see who could stay awake the longest and still be alert enough to stop a small assault drone. I don’t even want to know.”

 _“I don’t blame you,”_ he laughs and then his face falls. _“Oh, uh, we have a… development here that you need to know about now.”_

“What’s going on, Kaidan?”

_“It’s Joker. He doesn’t want to pilot the Normandy anymore. He’s resigning his post as soon as we get back to Earth.”_

I’m quiet for a minute. I hate the idea of him leaving. “Shit.”

_“Yeah, it’s been rough. Steve’s doing his best to help him work through his grief, but I don’t think anything is going to change Joker’s mind at all. But he’s promised us that he’s going to talk to you when we get there.”_

“Well, that’s something at least,” I sigh. “I doubt I’ll be able to do anything except pull some strings and get him a transfer off the _Normandy_.”

_“He seemed like he was coping alright at the memorial, but I think that’s because he already made his decision. It was just part of him closing the door on this chapter.”_

I rub my forehead. “Anyone else planning on jumping ship?”

Kaidan shakes his head. _“Not that I’ve heard. But we’ve all got planets that have to be rebuilt and resettled. I honestly don’t know how much time we have left with everyone all together.”_

“If Joker’s going to try to leave right away, then it’s not long at all.” I look away and choke back a sob. “This is going to be really hard, isn’t it?”

_“Yeah, Shepard, it will. I’m getting really tired of goodbyes. God, we’re so damn close. I can’t stand not being with you right now.”_

“Two days? Less than? I can’t keep track of time to save my life right now.”

He nods. _“Fifty-five hours, forty-two minutes. Not that I’m counting, of course. At least that’s what Admiral Shala’Raan is telling me. And I’m going to hold them to it.”_

“Good.” I swallow hard and just stare at him for a minute. And his brow gets deeper the longer I look. “Kaidan, I need you. It’s, uh, it’s starting to get really hard.”

_“You’re talking about Anderson? The things we couldn’t talk about over the comms last time?”_

“Yeah,” I gasp, trying to fight back tears because I know he’ll feel horrible seeing me cry and not being able to do anything about it.

 _“Shepard, there’s - is there more?”_ All I can do is nod again. He knows we can’t talk about anything over this line. Then he reaches toward me. The image is distorted and we both know it's not real, but I reach forward, too. Our fingertips almost brush. _“I’ll be there soon, Shepard. I promise. And then we can talk about anything you need to.”_

“The worst part of this has been being alone,” I whisper.

 _“Yeah, I get that, and I’m sorry,”_ he says. _“Hell, I've barely slept the last few nights just thinking about you being there and dealing with everything on your own. But you can do this. We can make it another fifty-five hours, forty-one minutes, and thirty-three seconds. And you know I’m in. I’m all in. This is one crew member you can count on always being at your side, Shepard.”_

“I know,” I say and then huff. “But we may need to talk about you only referring to me by my last name. I think we’re past that, aren’t we?”

He laughs, clearly picking up on me needing to change the subject. _“Hmmm. We’ll have to try some different things out on a trial basis. See what sticks. I’m not making any promises, though. I’m kinda attached to it at this point.”_

“Fair enough, Kay,” I toss out there. He makes a face but then shrugs.

_“I could live with it. As long as we stay away from ‘Kaidy’ we’re good, Shepard. That name’s reserved for my mom’s use only. Oh, speaking of, can you use your newfound influence to send word down to Vancouver or wherever she’s resettled right now? Just to let her know that I’m alright? The way things have been, I don't trust that my messages have gotten through."_

“Yeah, of course. I’ll do that right now, if you’d like.”

_“She’d really appreciate it. Thank you. And then you need to get back to bed.”_

I make a show of looking around me and gesturing with my free hand. “Really?”

I live for these moments when he rolls his eyes at me and gives me that exasperated half-smirk of his. _"You know what I mean, you idiot. Go get some sleep.”_

"Love you, Kay."

_"Love you, too, Shep."_

We both look at each other for a second and then he says, _"Nope, I don't like that,"_ while I say, "Hate it. Doesn't work at all."

 _"We'll keep working on it,"_ he laughs again. _"Go sleep, love. I'll see you soon, and we’re going to work everything out."_

"See you soon," I smile. It's finally starting to feel real, and that thought does more for my spirits and health than anything else in a while.

I call for Eriksson. They come in with the comm tech, and Hackett joins us. I explain Kaidan’s request, and Hackett has the comm tech get to work. He's young, probably got an emergency conscription that ignored the age minimum because doesn’t look a day over sixteen. And he looks frankly terrified of being in mine and Hackett's presence. Then again it could just be the krogan. But damn if he doesn't know his tech. Kaidan sent us his mother's biometric I.D. information, and he plugs it in immediately.

"Admiral, it would help if I knew where she was likely to be when the attack first happened," he says, all business now that he's looking at a screen instead of at us.

"The Alenkos are from Vancouver, yes?" Hackett asks me.

"That's right, sir. But their family has an orchard just outside of Kamloops, B.C. She and her husband were headed there the day of the attack.” The computer screen scrolls and then flashes green.

"I've got her, Admiral," the tech says. "Lielle Alenko, out of Vancouver, British Columbia. She was being housed in a camp north of Whistler, listed as an active civilian trauma nurse, but those refugees have been moved to another camp closer to the city. Her husband - ”

He stops dead and I close my eyes against the sudden pit in my stomach.

“Petty Officer?” Hackett asks.

The tech swallows and snaps out of it. “I’m sorry, Admiral. Her husband, retired and emergency-reinstated Staff Commander Owen Alenko, is listed as KIA.”

"Dammit," I mutter. “I should have checked before calling him.”

"He doesn’t know?" Hackett asks me.

"Not for sure, sir. One of the last times he heard from his mother was when his father's unit was listed as MIA. He knew what that really meant. I'll tell him.”

“No, Commander, I’ll handle it while you take care of this,” Hackett says. “Petty Officer, does it say if Mrs. Alenko has been informed?"

"No, Admiral. I mean, sorry, sir, what I mean is I can't tell from this information. It's just her basic location and Alliance military relationships. But given our time frame and how close she is to Vancouver, it’s possible she’s been - "

Eriksson’s omnitool goes off, and they interrupt. “Admiral, I apologize. General Martinez needs to speak with you urgently.”

“Alright, tell her I’m on my way to the conference room. Lieutenant, let me know when the Commander is done.”

“Yes, sir.” Hackett nods to me before leaving and I turn back to the comm tech.

"Petty Officer - what's your name?"

"Jenkins, sir, Wallace Jenkins."

A quick pang from years ago hits me. _You can’t make this shit up_.

"Alright, Petty Officer Jenkins, I need you to get Mrs. Alenko on a vidcall. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, Commander, do you - sorry, sir, do you mean tonight?" he stammers.

"Is the Commander’s request a problem, Petty Officer?" Eriksson asks.

"No, Lieutenant. The camp has been in regular contact. It's just - it's 0200 local time."

"Wallace, you've got parents somewhere?" I ask. He blushes furiously and looks down.

"I - yes, Commander, in New York. We were from there anyway. Only one of my mothers made it out."

 _Shit_. Well, there's one hit to my legendary status.

"I'm sorry for your loss," I say. "And you probably got yanked out of a camp and got thrown into service, right?" He nods and I continue. "Wallace, I guarantee your mother hasn't been asleep at 0200 _once_ since you left. It's what mothers do when their children are gone. Have you spoken with her recently?"

"No, sir, just a quick message a few weeks ago. There hasn't been time to talk, and personal use of Alliance equipment is strictly prohibited."

"That's fine, I understand,” I tell him. “Now, what you're going to do for me is place the call to the Vancouver outskirts camp for me, and then you're going to call your mother. Yes, at 0500 because she won't care about sleep once she's heard your voice. Alright?"

He hastily wipes a tear away. "Yes, sir, Commander." He goes back to work at the terminal. "Sir, they have someone going to get her. Apparently she's on-call right now and it will be a few minutes. Do you want me to patch it through to the QEC camera-display apparatus?"

"Tightbeam is fine since we’re so close, and you can just call it the QEC. It's easier for you, and you sound more on top of things when you’re not spouting the manual specs."

"Thank you, sir. It will be a few minutes." He's itching to use the comms himself. I'm actually impressed he hasn't already. Then again, he's green enough to think he wouldn't get away with it in all this chaos.

“Lieutenant,” I say, turning back to them. “Admiral Hackett said you’ve spent a lot of time on Arcturus and the Council homeworlds?”

“Yes, Commander. My mother’s a diplomat, an attaché to one of Parliament’s ambassadors to the Citadel. We spent a good deal of time travelling to each homeworld before I furthered my studies at Oxford.”

“How many times to each of them, would you say?”

Eriksson doesn’t hesitate. “A dozen trips to Thessia and eight to Sur’Kesh, but only once to Palaven unfortunately.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, that’s one more time than I've been to Palaven, so you have me there.” They look at me curiously. “Lieutenant?”

“Forgive me, Commander. Given your status, I am surprised you haven’t spent more time there.”

“You and me both. I only made it as far as Menae, and there wasn’t time to enjoy the view.”

My meaning dawns on their face and they nod once, tight-lipped. “Of course, Commander. The bombardment.”

“Yep. Stick around and maybe we can get Garrus Vakarian drunk enough to tell the story.”

Before they can ask me anything else, the computer signals an incoming call. I tell Jenkins to bring up the call and Kaidan’s mother appears on-screen. Her face is strong like Kaidan’s, chiseled and only a little less broad. Her brilliant hazel green eyes are framed by waves of dark-auburn hair only partly pulled-back with a surgical bandana. Underneath her nervous confusion I can just make out the exact same look of sheer exhaustion I’ve seen on him. But she must have taught him how to hide all of that behind strength and control because it’s all gone in a flash.

"Mrs. Alenko, this is Commander John Shepard. Can you see and hear me?" I ask.

 _"Yes, I can,"_ she answers. Eriksson takes their cue to leave now that the call is established and takes Jenkins with them. _"I almost didn’t believe it when they said you were calling. Is Kaidan alright? Is he with you?"_

"Yes, ma'am, and no. Kaidan is just fine. We're not on the same ship right now, but I just spoke with him a little while ago. He wanted me to tell you he’s doing well."

 _"Oh, thank God,_ thank God _,"_ she gasps. She puts her hand to her mouth. _"I'm sorry, Commander, I just - I need a moment."_

"Please, take your time." She's definitely a trauma nurse because it takes her all of ten seconds to compose herself. She places her hand on her chest and takes a single deep, steadying breath and continues.

 _"Thank you for calling, Commander,"_ she says and smiles, and _holy shit_ , there’s the real family resemblance. Kaidan’s is exactly the same. _"It's wonderful to finally meet you, dear. Kaidan has told me so much about you."_

"I'm sorry it had to be this way, ma'am, rather than in person," I say.

_"Oh, that's quite alright. If even half of what I've heard is true, it's not as if you haven't been the busiest person in the galaxy, Commander."_

"Shepard or John, please - whichever you like."

She smiles again, broader this time. _"Lielle, and that's not an option. None of this old lady 'ma'am' nonsense, Shepard."_

"Copy that," I laugh. “Did Kaidan tell you to call me that?”

She shrugs. _“He never called you anything else, so why should I? And forgive me for saying so, dear, but my medical opinion is that you don't look like you're up for chatting all that long.”_

"I've had a rough go of it, but believe it or not I _have_ actually looked worse.”

 _"Then my son likes you for more than just your looks,"_ she replies, completely deadpan.

"Luckily for me, yes," I spar back. It's a risk that pays off because she laughs.

_"If you can take a joke like that, I think we'll get along just fine, Shepard."_

"Kaidan did warn me you like to tease.”

_"Oh, he did, did he? And what else did my son warn you about?"_

"I, uh, think I'll let him answer that one."

 _"That's a good decision,"_ she laughs. _"Tell me - how is he? Can you tell me where he is?"_

"I can tell you both, but I'm sure you understand it has to stay between us. He's healthy, doing incredibly well, and he even got a promotion of sorts for his actions during the battle for Earth. He and the _Normandy_ are on their way back from a mission."

 _"That's wonderful news. Do you know if he knows about his father? Do_ you know _?"_

"I actually needed to ask you the same thing." It's a piss poor way of starting to break the news, but I can tell from her expression that she's said similar things before and knows exactly what it means.

Her mouth tightens and she looks down. _"We heard rumors early on, rumors that turned into credible reports, that all Alliance forces in Vancouver were routed out of the city and pursued into the mountains. They were all listed as MIA, but we all knew the chances of surviving those first attacks were almost non-existent. It's been long enough now that I've accepted the likelihood my husband isn't coming back."_

"I'm sorry I have to tell you this - " She holds up a hand and stops me.

_"It's alright, Shepard, I know. Let's not ruin this conversation with all of that."_

"I'm so sorry for your loss," I say anyway.

_"My husband and his unit died heroes. There will be time to mourn later when things have settled. I understand if you can't say, but can you tell me when Kaidan will get back?"_

I can't vouch for the security of the line on her end, so I have to play it safe. "It's soon, very soon, actually. And I was wondering if you'd like to join us up here when he arrives."

_"Could you arrange something like that? I'm just a civilian and don't have anything remotely approaching clearance."_

"Lielle, please, he and I are both Spectres. And war heroes. We can get pretty much anything we ask for."

She throws her head back laughing. _"Well, in that case I accept your invitation, Shepard. Oh, I hope it's this week. It would be wonderful if we could surprise him for Christmas."_

"Christmas? Wait, what day is it? I've kind of lost track.”

_"I don't know what time you're going off of, but down here it's just after 0215 on December the twenty-second."_

I look around for a chronometer, the universal computers every ship has that keep track of a hundred different times and dates all coordinated to Galactic Standard. Yep, we're three days from Christmas. I turn back to Lielle.

"You know could change, but they are due back from their mission before then." I just can't promise it. Something could go wrong with the Relay. A hundred things could go wrong. It's irresponsible to even say that much. “I’ll do everything I can to hold them to that timetable.”

_"Thank you, and I understand completely. Alright, I've kept you longer than I should have. I need to get back to my shift, and I'm sure you need to get some rest."_

"Like mother, like son," I chuckle. "He told me the exact same thing."

 _"It's his upbringing,"_ she says, again completely deadpan. _"I've heard his mother is a remarkable woman."_

"That she is, I could tell right away," I smile. I like her already. That's good. I'm planning on being around for the rest of my life.

 _"You're so sweet, Shepard. Thank you so,_ so _much for calling. I'm sure I'll hear from you again soon."_

"You will. I'll let you know as soon as I have more information I can share."

_"Goodnight, dear."_

"I'll be seeing you.”

The call disconnects and I lean back. My exhaustion crashes over me like a wave and I start to nod off almost immediately. The computer signals the tech that the call is over, and my bodyguards and Jenkins come back in.

 **“Alright, Shepard, let’s get you back to your room,”** Wrex says.

“Jenkins, make that call,” I insist as the krogan start wheeling me out.

The Petty Officer salutes me and wastes no time at the console. Eriksson is nowhere to be found now, but Hackett walks with us as we go back through the bridge. A row of officers spring to their feet and salute me as we go by. I give the best half-assed two-finger salute I can, and a few of them laugh before getting glared at by others around them.

 **“Did you just laugh at my Battlemaster?”** Grunt asks one as we pass. The color drains from his face and I start cracking up which confuses Grunt and then makes Wrex laugh.

 **“Calm down, Whelp. They’re laughing at his joke.”** Wrex says.

 **“Joke? What joke?”** Grunt’s questions continue as we go back to the med bay. I lie there quietly, smiling and thinking about how good it is to have some of my crew around again. They’re still bickering when we get to my room.

“Grunt, how about this? You two take this somewhere else, and tomorrow I’ll teach you the salute I did tonight. Ok?”

**“Ha! Yes! Teach me this secret signal, Shepard!”**

“Sounds good, buddy. Wrex? Be nice to him.”

 **“No promises, Shepard. See you around.”** They both salute me in krogan fashion with fists raised and then leave.

I look over to Hackett who’s watching me with complete bemusement. “Yes, Admiral, the _Normandy_ was like that all the time.”

“That alone deserves a few medals, then,” he says. “I’ll just have to section off an entire wing of the _Denali_ for the sake of the entire ship when the rest of them get here.”

“Really, sir, you should just drop us on Earth. It would be less disruptive.”

“I might just do that, Commander,” he laughs. “This should go without saying, but name whatever you need to make them happy and we’ll make it happen.”

“I appreciate that, Admiral. I’ll need to requisition a shuttle to pick up Lielle Alenko and bring her up here so she can spend some time with her son.”

“You mean with the two of you,” he corrects.

I smile. “Yes, sir. That’s exactly what I mean.”

“I think we can manage that. We’ll talk about the details tomorrow. Get some rest, Commander. We’ll work everything out.”

I nod and now I really can’t keep my eyes open any longer.

As I drift off, I try to imagine Kaidan and being happy with him. But my dreams are still filled with horrors. I’m back on Horizon, only this time Kaidan embraces me and kisses me and comes with me. At first. Then he finds the steelbook Hackett gave me. He opens it, throws it at my feet, and stalks away without another word. I call after him but he doesn’t turn. I pick up the steelbook and when I open it my happiness turns to ash.

The only word in it is death.

I jolt awake in a cold sweat, and despite Hackett’s assurances I’m more terrified than I've ever been in my entire life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, as always, a huge thank you to everyone reading this! Y'all have been leaving incredible comments here and on Tumblr with the reblogs, so that's been absolutely wonderful to see!. Second, a shoutout to my betas and ThePixelAgora for all their advice on helping me introduce Lt. Örjan Eriksson, my biggest OC character of the fic! They're going to be a big help to Shepard moving forward in the story, so I'm very excited that they've finally made their appearance. 
> 
> And - speaking of the rest of the story - now that the stage has been set and we're _finally_ on the verge of Shepard and Kaidan's reunion, chapters from here on out tend to get significantly longer because the sequences and situation are gonna get more complicated. Buckle up!


	12. Kaidan 4 - Lifeline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The _Normandy's_ crew returns to Earth and shares a triumphant reunion with Shepard on Christmas Eve. But Kaidan senses something's wrong. He sees a shadow behind Shepard's laughter and tears of joy, and he's terrified that the war isn't over for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the chapters start to get significantly longer. I've added in page breaks for you wherever I can make them work, but the story unfolded in such a way that actually splitting up the chapter felt like a disservice to the characters' arcs. So grab a drink, and settle in for a rollercoaster.
> 
> And I'm adding a CW/TW for depictions of significant grief/PTSD and mentions of characters on suicide watch. ***No major character deaths***
> 
>   
> 

~

_I lay Shepard’s nameplate face down in front of the Memorial Wall. I'm desperate beyond words to hold him in my arms again. I straighten and look around at my friends. My comrades. My saviors. My family. Even now the weight of the last few weeks hasn't set in. Or the sweet joy of our victory. None of it actually feels real. But it is, and we're coming._

That’s what I thought at the memorial, and now he’s just on the other side of the hatch.

We’ve touched down on the _Denali_ , and a ramp is being extended up to the side hatch. My hands are shaking and my mouth has gone completely dry. I’m watching the pressure indicator lights like a hawk. The screen above them shows a group of staff officers waiting at the top of the ramp to escort us down. They’re wisely standing to the side. The lights click from yellow to green, and the hatch opens.

 _Fuck decorum_.

I slide out of the opening hatchway before the door’s all the way open and then I’m sprinting down the ramp. The shocked faces of the officers barely even register. I’m only looking at one person, and he’s sitting at the end of a parade blue carpet.

My feet carry me faster than I think I’ve ever run, and yet time slows for me. The various admirals and generals of our combined forces are lined up behind Shepard and are clapping vigorously but with control; their captains and lieutenant colonels and such whose jobs are to keep the parade formations orderly have failed entirely. The lines are there, but the marines and naval crews of half a dozen species are jumping up and down, screaming cheers and clapping like I’ve never heard. Their faces are a blur as I pass. My tears stream behind me in my wake.

I’m halfway to Shepard. My heart is pounding out of my chest. I feel a manic grin spreading to my ears. He struggles to his feet with a forearm crutch. He’s wearing the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on him. My mind flashes back to my happiest moments with him. I see the first time we met and I had to keep myself from biting my lip. I’ve passed the enlisted soldiers and I’m now speeding by the lower ranking officers. I see the first time we shared a drink on the _Normandy_ after I snuck a bottle of whisky onboard. And I see the first time I made him laugh after Virmire, some joke about vorcha and dentists. The officers’ uniforms change and become more decorated. I see the first time we kissed on the Citadel and the first time we made love. The officers end and now I’m only feet away from him. I see the smile on his face the first time we spoke after the Crucible.

He drops the crutch, takes two shaky steps towards me as I barrel in, and then he’s in my arms and I swear to God I’m never letting go.

“Hey, Kai - ”

I stop his words with a kiss and pull him in closer to me as his arms wrap around my back and his cast digs into my side. I reach up, take his face in my hands, and draw him into me. Everything outside the kiss is just noise. Static. This - _this_ is what’s real to me in this moment of time. Cameras floating around catch everything. I don't care. I don't care that the galaxy will see. I don't care that our highest commanders are inches away. Absolutely nothing else matters to me. There's only him and me right now.

His hand taps my shoulder twice and I break the kiss but I don’t let go. I bring our foreheads together and look up into his eyes. Well, _eye_ \- he still has a bandage over half his head. _God, I missed these blue eyes_.

“Hey, Shepard,” I sob. “I told you you’d find a way to win. I knew it, I _knew_ you’d do it.”

“It was because of you. It was all always for you,” he says, voice thick. “God, Kaidan, I love you so, _so_ much.”

“Yeah, I know. And I love you, too.” Now he kisses me with all the surety behind his words, but it’s far too short. A voice next to us clears loudly above the cheers. We break apart and I look apologetically at the surviving top Alliance military leaders. Meaning, I attempt an apologetic face. Frankly, I couldn't care less if they discharged us on the spot.

“Admirals, Generals, I apologize but sometimes there are things that just can’t wait,” I say and then snap to attention. Shepard's leaning on me for support, so I lower my hand quickly and give it to him for extra balance.

"Under such circumstances, I think we can forgive such indiscretion," General Martinez says, fortunately for us since she’s the commandant of the Alliance marines. “Steven?”

"What indiscretion?" Admiral Hackett asks with a grin. "And anyway, they're both Spectres. It's not like they care. You owe me fifty credits, Ximena."

"Sorry, General, I'll take care of that for you," I offer sheepishly.

"Kaidan - chair," Shepard grimaces. One of the staffers pushes it over to us. I help him lower himself and I kneel.

"Did I hurt you?"

"No, it's just that I'm a complete mess," he replies, squeezing my hand.

"I'll say," Garrus says behind me. The rest of the crew has caught up to us, and holy shit, where did Wrex and Grunt even come from? "You two haven't seen each other in three weeks but you really couldn't wait another five minutes?"

"Can you still be Archangel with only one wing?" Shepard laughs.

"Ouch, Commander. At least you've kept your sharp wit, but even so I still reckon I'm a better shot.

"Yeah, I’ll give you that.”

They both laugh as they shake hands. “It's damn good to see you, Shepard."

“Likewise, Garrus. Tali!"

"Hi, Shepard," she says, leaning in to give him a hug and then smacking his shoulder. " _Keelah_ , you had us worried. I'm so glad you're alright!"

" _Mostly_ alright, from the looks of it," Liara smiles. "Could be worse."

" _Has_ been worse. You're all catching me on a good day," Shepard replies.

"Damn, Loco, I'd hate to see you on a bad day," James says. He dwarfs Shepard in the chair but still manages to give him a clasped hand hug. "Still look pretty good though."

"Almost good enough to beat you in pull-ups again," Shepard grins.

"Is that true, Vega? The Commander did more pull-ups than you?" Steve asks, walking up with Joker.

"Yeah, I don't like to talk about it." James moves aside and Steve steps forward.

"Steve," Shepard says. "You did some pretty slick flying from what I've heard."

"Got some help from the best, sir," he shrugs, laughing.

"Yeah, he did," Joker says.

"Kaidan, James, help me up," Shepard grunts. We each grab a hand and put our other under his armpits for support.

Joker shakes his head. "You don’t have to do that, Commander.”

"Like hell I don’t," Shepard insists. He salutes Joker, and before Joker can return it he pulls him into a hug. "Thank you for getting them out and back here. I owe you everything."

Joker looks embarrassed and pained to be getting so much credit. But he pats Shepard on the back and shakes his hand. "You're welcome, Shepard. Thanks for, you know, saving the galaxy. _Again_."

The rest of the crew - Chakwas, the engineering team, the rest of our personnel - move through in a quick line and then the top brass finally get the crowd under control. A camera drone positions itself in front of Admiral Hackett.

"Good morning," he says, and the drone amplifies his voice through the hangar's intercom. "This is a proud day for us. Not just for the Alliance or any one of the Council races; this is a proud day for _all_ of us. We stood together and fought as a united galaxy and won our victory against the Reapers. It wasn't an individual victory, so let us remember that going forward. Let us continue to work together for the betterment of our collective future. But today, let us also acknowledge that our collective work and all our hope were embodied in one ship, one crew - "

He's interrupted by a fresh cheer and has to wait almost two full minutes for it to abate.

"Distinguished members of the galaxy's best fighting forces, raise your hands, stomp your feet, shout your war cries - do whatever you do to celebrate victors and do it now in honor of the crew of the _Normandy_ and her captain, Commander Shepard."

The cacophony is deafening. The brass all clear off to the sides, and some of their staff arrange us together for some pictures. We're missing a handful of crewmates who've served with us at some point, but we're the bulk of who's left and those who were there at the end. We all kneel or stand around Shepard - who I can tell is hating every second of the attention - but still smiles and flashes a thumbs up for the cameras. And then we're up and being escorted from the still-cheering hangar. The staffers are aided by our krogan heavies who have no problems keeping the onlookers behind the barriers that have been set up to keep our path clear.

I refuse to let anyone else push Shepard's chair, so I wheel him out behind Garrus, Tali, Liara, and James. I lean down and whisper, "Your first public appearance and I can't believe you're already sick of the attention."

"Shut up and get me out of here," he hisses while still smiling at everyone. He reaches up with his left hand and puts it on top of my right.

“Is that going to be our MO from now on?” I ask with a laugh. “There’s no way in hell this is all the recognition you’re getting.”

“I know, I’m dreading it.” We’re finally out of the hangar and into an empty hall. The door closes behind us but doesn’t block out the noise. Still, it’s enough to hear myself think and I stop Shepard’s chair so I can kneel down again.

“Alright, that was a lot back there. What do you need right now?” I ask him.

He leans forward and pulls me into another brief kiss. “First, I needed that. And now I need breakfast because I’m starving and I’m sure you’re all ready for something besides ship fare.”

His plan gets a rousing endorsement, and the staffers tell us there’s a private dining hall that’s been prepared for us. The brass will be dining with us, so I guess we can’t get too crazy yet. We arrive in just a few minutes and are met with more applause from the kitchen crew and servers. The room is obviously lavish for their use and not for us lowly non-admirals. Our engineers pause outside the door for just a moment before Shepard tells me to stop and then beckons them in.

“There’s no such thing as command crew only right now. This is for you, too.”

“I think we could get used to that, Commander,” Adams says. “And I think a promotion for the sake of pay-grade would be a great start.”

Half of the brass look completely flabbergasted. Shepard laughs and shakes his hand. “Did you really even have to ask, Adams?”

“Who said anything about asking?” he retorts with his characteristic gruffness.

We all go in and, hell, even _I_ feel out of place. Primarch Victus greets us, as do half a dozen asari matriarchs and quarian admirals who helped command their forces here. None of the Council are present, and notably absent are any salarians. Shepard’s definitely going to get roped into that mess. Admiral Hackett motions us over to the head of the long central table as everyone else starts to settle in at four smaller tables in each of the room’s corners.

“Admiral, I’m sorry, this isn’t going to work for me,” Shepard says. “Would the staffers have a heart attack if we undid the table locks and pushed all of them together?”

The staffers certainly don’t look pleased, but they do exactly what he says when Admiral Hackett nods. I push Shepard to the side so I can help Liara and one of General Martinez’s biotic assistants move the tables. Liara winks at me and we hit our two tables together a touch too hard right in front of Adams and Garrus.

“Watch the coupling - tables,” Garrus barks and then corrects himself even as Adams flinches and grumbles. The crew bursts into gales of laughter.

“What are coupling tables?” Shepard asks him all innocently with a decidedly evil grin. He must have gotten around to reading the tech cache about how we got the _Normandy_ up and running again. “Do they require lots of calibrations?”

“Primarch, please don’t ever order me to work with them again,” Garrus sighs and Tali pats his arm.

We all laugh again and start to take our seats. The crew spreads out, some of them like Garrus and Liara take the opportunity to speak with high ranking members of their planetary leadership, and others like Donnelly and Daniels get stuck between a turian and human general who start plying them with polite tech questions. I sit on Shepard’s right and Admiral Hackett sits to his left but leaves an open seat between them. We’re interrupted about every five minutes when someone new comes over, sits down, and thanks Shepard. He graciously entertains them, but some stay just a few sentences too long and I seriously consider having Wrex come over and stand there so Shepard can eat. Of course neither of us is making this any easier since his right hand is in a cast and firmly clasped in my left. He’s on a semi-soft diet, but I try to sneak him a piece of my breakfast steak anyway. Unfortunately for me, Chakwas definitely catches me and stares daggers. I don’t try it again.

“I can’t believe you’re finally back,” Shepard tells me once the fourth asari matriarch leaves.

“I know, Feels a hell of a lot longer than just a few weeks.”

“Have you gotten your standing orders yet?”

“No, nothing yet. You?”

“So far it’s just been ‘get better,’” he says, eyeing my coffee. I look over at Chakwas who I swear has a sixth sense for misbehaving patients because she’s already mouthing _one sip._ Shepard grabs the cup and takes a swig before handing it back to me. “Damn, that’s good.”

“Sorry, Commander, you’re still confined to the medward on doctor’s orders,” Admiral Hackett says and then he leans around Shepard so he can see me. “And Commander Alenko, your standing orders until further notice are to help him get better in any way you can.”

“Aye, sir,” I say. “Anything else?”

Admiral Hackett shakes his head. “We can discuss things as they come up, but R&R is what you both need most of all right now. Think of it as the most intentionally boring shore leave ever.”

“It can’t be any worse than that _bosh’tet_ shore leave on the Citadel with Shepard’s Cerberus clone,” Tali groans and conversation stops dead.

" _Why_ would you bring that up?" Liara asks her from across the table.

"I'm sorry, Cerberus _cloned_ Commander Shepard?" Primarch Victus asks. I didn't even know turians could mimic raising eyebrows in surprise.

"Oh, boy, here we go," Shepard groans. "Alright, so it started with this Cerberus cell luring me to Ryuusei. Yeah, the sushi place with the aquarium floor..."

Then we erupt into a lively, completely jumbled retelling of that entire saga.

By the end, we do end up getting every single one of the brass to laugh. No one is touching their food now, so Admiral Hackett has the staffers pass out a round of champagne glasses.

"You know, compared to everything else it's kind of hilarious. Very B-movie supervillain stuff," Shepard says. He takes a glass and then pours most of the golden liquid into mine, watching Chakwas until she shrugs in approval.

"Hilarious," I say drily. "Replacing the best man any of us knows with every one of your worst qualities embodied."

"Although, not many people get to meet their worst qualities and punch him in the face," Garrus says.

 **"Or kick him into a skyscraper from a ship going two hundred klicks."** Grunt adds.

Admiral Hackett rises and holds up his champagne glass. "May we always have the wherewithal to stare down our worst impulses while punching, shooting, and kicking them to kingdom come. To Commander Shepard."

"To Shepard!" we all shout, toasting him.

"To the best damn crew anyone could ever ask for!" Shepard calls back.

“To the crew!”

“And to those who aren’t here but got us through to the end. To Anderson, to EDI, and to all the rest,” he says firmer. And we respond with the name of whoever we were closest with. “It’s good to be back together again. Cheers.”

We clink our glasses and drain them. It’s expensive stuff, too good to throw back so fast, but Shepard looks ready to collapse again. This has been a pretty memorable morning.

“Admiral, do I have your leave to go?” he asks.

“I think that’s wise, Commander. Doctor T’Miri has been pinging me for the last half hour wondering why I’ve kept you past the time I said I would have you back,” Admiral Hackett answers. “I’d rather we didn’t get into any more trouble. Commander Alenko, I’m assuming you’d like to put off your debrief and go with him now?”

“Yes, Admiral, if it can wait?” I respond.

“I thought as much, and that’s fine. We’ll set a time for later.” Admiral Hackett turns to the rest of the table. “ _Normandy_ crew - consider yourselves on a loose shore leave for the next few weeks. There’s a definite end-date because there’s a lot of work to be done, but it’s not exactly set in stone as of yet. We’re still making arrangements, but you’re the first to officially know that the Council is convening a galactic summit in the coming weeks as soon as we get some of the major Relay routes back online. I’ve spoken with all of your leaders, and they agreed that they want you to stick around here until then. If you have ongoing projects, you’re free to access most of the _Denali_ and we can arrange clearance for whatever equipment you might require. And my staff officers here will help you get settled and take care of anything else you need. All in all, you’re free to do as you will unless either myself or your Commanders here need something from you.”

“And if I happen to have another clone running around, brief him on everything and put him to work so I don’t have to do anything for a while,” Shepard says.

“Or…” I put my hand on his shoulder. “You all can pass everything on to me. Shepard, has it ever settled in that you don’t outrank me anymore?”

“Wait, could I have been delegating this whole time since I’m a general?” Garrus asks.

“Only with permission from an admiral, Vakarian,” Tali shoots back and gets a laugh from all of us.

“Alright, I’m going to let you two solve the logistical issues of interspecies military authority,” Shepard laughs and starts to roll back from the table. Everyone rises to their feet and he stops. “Okay, we’re definitely going to need to have a _Normandy_ summit on how to treat me for the rest of my life because right now you’re acting like I'm like royalty or something and it’s awkward as hell.”

As a testament to how well we know each other - or maybe an indictment of our collective insanity - every single one of us starts mock bowing or curtseying at the exact same time. The brass look at each other in bewilderment and with maybe some appreciation for our camaraderie. Still, I think it’s going to take them a long time to recover from hearing about the clone incident.

Shepard puts his face in his hand and shakes his head. “Admiral, I’m formally requesting a transfer to a desk job on some backwater colony.”

“”Not on your life, Commander, request formally denied,” Admiral Hackett says, eliciting yet another cheer from us. “Thank you all for dining with us. Crew dismissed.”

All of our crew come around the table again to hug Shepard or shake his hand or smack him on the back before we turn to leave. We’re joined by Admiral Hackett and Chakwas as well as Traynor and Eriksson, our new assigned staff assistant. Admiral Hackett’s staffers corral everyone else together and start discussing the logistics of our shore leave on the _Denali_. The halls are still being kept empty so we can get back to the hospital wing in peace, flanked by our wiseass krogan heavies. For such a huge ship, it's a shorter walk than I expect. A group of doctors is waiting to meet us in the ward.

“Alright, Commanders. Doctor Chakwas and I need to have a word with the medical team, and then I have some other matters to attend to,” Admiral Hackett says. “Lieutenant Eriksson will escort you to Shepard’s room and make sure you’re properly set up.”

“Thank you, Admiral.” I salute him and he returns it briefly before extending his hand. I take it, but it’s a familiarity I don’t expect since I’ve hardly spent any time at all in the same room as him.

“It’s good to have you back, son,” he tells me as we shake. “And you don’t have to be so stiffly formal.”

“I’ll give it my best, sir,” I reply. I can feel Shepard grinning up at me. He knows how tightly wound I am.

“Shut up,” I whisper down at him after Eriksson has led us away and we’ve turned a corner.

“What, I didn’t say anything,” he says innocently.

“You never have to,” I snort. “So can I request a sedative for you whenever I want, or what?”

“Ugh, please, anything but more sleep. Resting is fine, but I feel like I’ve lost years of my life with how much I’ve slept.”

“Then count it as making up for all the sleep you lost fighting this war single-handedly.” We get to his room and I maneuver him to his bed. “Well, this looks pretty good in here. Your own bathroom - typical, you always did get spoiled - a fake viewport, flowers, everything a recovering war hero could want.”

“Yeah, except my omnitool,” Shepard complains. “They won’t let me work.”

“My apologies, Commander,” Eriksson says. “Admiral’s orders.”

“Sam?” Shepard drawls.

“Nope. Don’t you dare,” I snap at him. “The operative word here is ‘recovering’. You’re not cleared yet.”

Shepard leans around me and looks expectantly at Sam. She shrugs and says, “Sorry, Commander, _his_ orders. And Doctor Chakwas’s.”

“Fine, keep my blood pressure low, or whatever today’s excuse is,” Shepard sighs.

"Commanders, _do_ either of you need anything else right now?" Traynor asks with a grin.

"No thanks, Sam," Shepard answers. “It’s good to have you back.”

"I'll take a fresh set of commando regs," I say. "I need to get out of this dress kit. I have a feeling I'll have to live in it for the next few decades of meetings."

"Aye, sir. We’ll be back soon.” She and Eriksson leave us, already buried deep in details on their omnitools.

_Finally, some quiet._

Shepard grimaces as he starts to work his way out of his N7 hoodie, and I stop myself from reaching forward to help him. “Alright, just so I don’t make you feel completely incapacitated, how much help do you need physically? Do you need help getting into bed? Getting to the can?”

“Honestly, it comes and goes. They’re hitting me pretty hard with skeletal and muscle regen, but it’s taking longer than it ever has. How’s this? I’ll always ask when I need it, so help me up into the bed, please.”

He grasps one hand I offer and I use the other to support his back. I kick the wheelchair out of the way and he sits heavily on the bed. He’s able to scoot himself back with one arm as I get his feet up. I pull a chair around to his left so he can see me easier. I take his left hand and he leans over to kiss me. I meet him most of the way and savor the moment, closing my eyes and breathing him in deeply.

“Ugh, I wouldn’t do - ” His voice is muffled against me. “I don’t feel - very hygenic - right now.”

“You’ve smelled worse,” I say, still working on the kiss. “And sponge baths are a thing.”

He laughs and then I laugh and we keep kissing gently while we laugh together. My heart is singing and I can’t believe how lucky we are, and yet the interruptions keep on coming.

“Don’t think I won’t physically separate you two,” Chakwas says as she comes in with two other doctors.

“You really shouldn’t have assigned me such a handsome nurse, you know,” Shepard laughs.

“I have sensory inhibitors, and I’m not afraid to use them,” Chakwas threatens. “Commander Alenko is here to keep you company and help you rest, not add to your physical strain. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” we both answer.

“Kaidan, this is Doctor T’Miri and Doctor Taejor. They headed the team that’s been putting me back together,” Shepard tells me. I shake each of their hands with both of mine.

“Correction, Commander, we _formerly_ headed your medical team,” Doctor T’Miri says before I can really thank the two of them.

“Yes, and you all truly did a marvelous job of it. I’m not denying that,” Chakwas replies. “But now, with your permission, Commander, I’ll be taking over as your chief physician again. And I’m not getting rid of a single person on your team.”

"With respect, Doctor Chakwas," Doctor Taejor says. "Each of us is an expert, too. Combined medical experience of over five hundred years."

"And yet even with that impressive background not one of you corrected for one of Commander Shepard's recessive genes which impedes skeletal growth and bone strength when he's given high doses of standard morphozine without a combination of genetically-specific calcium supplements and an additional inhibitor aimed at that particular chromosomal defect."

The asari and salarian look at each other briefly in mild surprise as Doctor Taejor says, "Oh, that explains - "

"Yes, Doctor Taejor," Chakwas interrupts. "That explains why the bone cancer spread so fast and why your standard skeletal regrowth methods have been so slow to work. I hope you understand that in the last four years I've performed nearly every procedure imaginable on Commander Shepard short of breast augmentation?"

Doctor T’Miri nods to her, "Yes, Doctor Chakwas, we understand and we’re happy to defer to your experience with Commander Shepard.”

“Very good,” she responds. “Now, please assemble the team and your latest reports so we can chart out a modified course of treatment. I want everyone together in half an hour, thank you.”

The doctors seem to take their effective demotion fairly well, all things considered. Chakwas comes around to my side of Shepard’s bed and I move my chair back so she can sit on the edge of the bed and talk to him.

“Commander Alenko, will you give us a few minutes?” she asks. I make to get up but Shepard waves me down.

“He’s fine, Karin,” he says. “You know I’ll just tell him everything anyway once he comes back in.”

“And Doctor Chakwas, I might be a Commander now but we’re still way past the use of rank,” I say quietly. “Please call me Kaidan when it’s just us.”

“As you wish,” she nods. “You two are by far the most frustrating patients I’ve ever had, and yet I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

“Because we get hurt so much or because we insist on being so familiar with you?” Shepard asks.

“ _Both_ ,” she responds with a hint of a smile. “Now, honest answers, how are you feeling?”

“Waves of fatigue,” he starts. “Sometimes they last for hours. I can’t get myself out of bed on my own and even when I have help it still feels like I’m going to pass out. I feel pretty fragile. Maybe not as glass-like now, but I’m still worried that if I move wrong I’ll break something. My appetite is finally back, so that’s good. I hate how much weight and muscle mass I’ve lost, but I suppose it’s expected. Um, what else? I still don’t know what’s wrong with my right eye.”

“Here, Commander. I’ll have to replace the bandage, but I’d like to take it off to see what it looks like underneath.” Chakwas stands and starts to unroll it. Shepard doesn’t flinch at all as she works. She pulls the last pad off, he blinks against the light, and I squeeze his hand tighter.

It’s a mistake because he starts and looks over at me. “How bad is it?”

It looks like his reinforced skull took the brunt of an explosion. Scars trace out in almost every direction from his eye socket, the two largest splitting his forehead up into his hairline and then below his eyelid down his entire cheek. A series of four more curve back from his eyebrow to his temple. These are too orderly to be anything but operation incisions. The skin around his eye itself is a solid purple mass. He’s lucky he didn’t lose it.

And dammit if he’s not still gorgeous enough to bring tears to my eyes, which alarms him even more.

“ _Kaidan_.”

“Well, Shepard, if, uh, beauty’s in the eye of the beholder, you’re still handsome in my book,” I offer and he pales.

“Shit, so it’s bad.”

I shrug. “Let’s just say you and Garrus are a matching set now.”

“Son of a - Doc, let me look!”

“Oh, for God’s sake, you two are utterly ridiculous,” Chakwas huffs, rolling her eyes. She holds up her omnitool and projects a mirror so Shepard can see. He touches his face gently, stretching along his forehead briefly before Chakwas bats his hand away. “They’re barely even deep enough to damage your cybernetic weaves.”

Shepard glares at me. “That was so mean.”

“Serves you right for scaring the shit out of me.”

“Yeah, okay, that’s fair.” He turns back to Chakwas. “How bad is it that it’s so blurry I can barely see out of that side?”

“It’s not unexpected with how much swelling there still is, and you did have another operation on the nerve a few days ago. There’s nothing to do for now except re-cover it and wait a few days until I can do a full examination to assess any permanent damage.”

“Alright,” Shepard sighs. “At least my head doesn’t feel like it’s splitting along the socket anymore. So, other than being sick of only seeing half the world, I think that’s about it.”

“Really? No residual pain from your eight major organ replacements and augmentations? Or from getting shot and receiving a significant number of severe burns?” Chakwas asks skeptically as she prepares a replacement bandage.

“Oh, right, I got shot by a Marauder on the way to the Conduit,” the jackass says like he’s commenting on the lunch menu. “No, that was pretty minor compared to everything else. And the skin grafts have been fine. Feels like my baseline for pain has been reset, so the persistent ache I feel everywhere is just - there now.”

“What about your sleep?”

Shepard gestures noncommittally. “No schedule, and when it comes it’s usually interrupted by nightmares.”

She nods, taking another note. “And mentally? Your spirits?”

“A million times better now that Kaidan and the crew are back,” he smiles.

“I asked for honest answers,” she insists. Does she know something that he and I haven’t talked about yet?

He gulps and takes a minute to answer. “Everything’s weighing down pretty heavy. Anderson’s death, everything leading up to the Crucible firing, fighting off Indoctrination afterwards. Learning that I - that we lost EDI and the geth has been the worst.”

“Post-traumatic stress is a given,” she tells him, putting her hand on his shoulder. “In fact, I’d be more afraid for you if you _weren’t_ showing any signs of it.”

He shakes his head and looks up away from us, past us and everything else like he’s looking into eternity. It’s a dead, haunted look and it shakes me to my core. “No, it’s more than that, I - did things. Things I didn’t think I was capable of doing. Choices - things I never wanted to do.”

“I see,” she says. “Is there anything you wish to talk about now? Admiral Hackett did mention that some of the effects of your Indoctrination began earlier than your initial medical report indicated. I can’t even imagine the added horror of that.”

Shepard swallows hard and looks down. “He didn’t say anything about Anderson, did he?”

Chakwas shakes her head. “No, but if it would help you to speak about him, then you know you always have my full confidentiality.”

“Yeah, there’s something the official reports left out.”

My stomach roils as he tells us about their confrontation with the Illusive Man, about shooting Anderson. Losing the only man he’s ever considered to be anything like a father in that moment? I marvel that he had any strength to go on after that, regardless of the stakes. He falls silent almost just as quickly, like he’s afraid of saying too much even to us. Chakwas shifts closer and puts her hand on his arm, her way of reminding her patients to be still and stay calm.

“You didn’t kill Admiral Anderson. If the Reapers were assailing your mind - if the Illusive Man was attacking you, - then you wouldn’t have been in full control of your body. Nobody blames you for that. We know you’d never have chosen to kill him.”

“No, but it happened anyway - it was still my finger that pulled the trigger.”

“Commander,” she says gently. “It may have been your finger, but it wasn’t your mind. And I was watching when his vitals spiked and started dropping. He didn’t die immediately from your shot, did he?”

He shakes his head. “No. I shot - they made me shoot him in the gut. He didn’t die until after I killed the Illusive Man. That _broke_ something, ended his control. I - was myself again. Anderson and I sat together after that.”

“And did he say anything to you?” she asks.

Silent tears start pouring down his face, wetting the fresh bandage. I reach around Chakwas and take his hand again. “His last - his last words to me were ‘You did good, son. You did good. I’m proud of you.’ I tried to keep him awake. I tried to keep him from going - I failed. He died next to me, and he didn’t know what I… he never saw what happened next.”

“He knew we were about to win,” she consoles him. “He knew you’d succeeded. It was a close shave, but his pride was well-placed. You did it.”

I see that shadow pass behind his eyes again, ever so briefly. It nagged at me for days after the first time we talked on the QEC. Something else happened. Something he won’t even hint at with Chakwas here. But even now my gut’s telling me that if I probe for answers at all then I’ll drive him away, maybe irrevocably. I have to have faith that he’ll tell me what’s really behind everything.

Or maybe he did hint at it. _Fuck_. He changed his words before talking about losing EDI and the geth. _Oh, Christ, Shepard, what happened up there_?

Either way, Chakwas misses it. She continues rubbing his shoulder and comforting him. But he sees something on my face and must know that I suspect something's wrong - or at least that I _think_ I might suspect something’s wrong. His expression changes to unfathomable sadness and he nods so slightly I almost think I'm making it up. But it's there - an agreement between us to be honest. That _he'll_ be honest with me when he's ready.

Chakwas interrupts my thoughts. "Alright, Commander. I need to go meet your doctors now, but I'll be back later today to discuss our treatment plan moving forward. And I want you to know that I'm always here to speak about any of this. Understood?"

"Yes, Karin, I understand. Thank you.” She pats me on the shoulder, too, as she passes. I watch her leave and then turn back to him. I work to keep my face neutral and I kiss his hand which I haven't let go of.

"Kaidan - " he starts.

"It's alright, Shepard. You don't owe me anything."

"I do though," he replies. His face screws up in pain. "But I'm not ready yet. Not now. I want us to have today at least."

I nod and squeeze his hand. "However long you need, just tell me when. I love you, Shepard. Nothing's going to change that."

"Will you - come up here with me? And just hold me for a while?”

I take my jacket off and slip out of my dress shirt so I'm down to my tank top. He moves over and I slide onto the bed. I wrap my arms around him and he clutches mine like a lifeline.

"Shhhhh, I've got you," I whisper. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. Just hold on to me and breathe with me. We're alright, you're safe."

"You're so good to me. More than I deserve. I love you."

I kiss his temple and rest my head against his. "I love you, too, Shepard."

We both fall asleep even though it's so early. I guess I didn't realize how much of a toll the waiting had taken on me, and he obviously needs the rest. I wake up first and it’s just past noon. Traynor and Eriksson are good. They managed to bring in new sets of commando regs and our rucksacks without waking us. They also pressed and hung up my shirt and jacket instead of leaving them draped across the back of the chair.

Shepard stirs next to me. His forehead shines with sweat, but it's not from a fever. He mutters a few nonsense words of a dream.

“’m sorry, destroy, burn, not - not my -” Then he gets more agitated and says, "Kaidan - no - no - Reapers - _no_ ," and his left hand digs hard into my arm.

"Shepard, it's ok, I'm here," I say firmly and hold him tighter. "You're alright, I've got you."

He snaps awake with a jerk and clutches me harder. "Is this - real? Are you really here with me?"

I twist around a little so he can see my face. He puts his hand on my cheek and I kiss his palm and then hold it there.

"I'm real, Shepard. And I’m here. You’re okay. You had a bad dream."

He shudders. "I have them every time I sleep. I - fail, in them, and you - I lose you every time."

"Yeah, that's not gonna happen," I say. "Nothing's taking me from you."

He nods and takes a few more unsteady breaths before his eye focuses. I lean my forehead against his, and I can’t help but smile softly.

“There you are.”

“And you kept your promise,” he mutters, reaching up and threading his fingers through my hair.

“Of course I did. Was there any doubt?”

He shakes his head and chuckles. “Never. It kept me strong. I used it - against the Catalyst, I mean. He kept saying, well, all the bullshit things Reapers said about organic inferiority and I threw that promise in its face. You kept me strong even when you weren’t here.”

“I’m here now,” I repeat.

“Yes - ” He kisses me quickly. “You are. And they’re not.”

I trace my thumb over his eyebrow and cup his cheek. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself?”

I arch an eyebrow at him. “We won.”

“We did.”

“Say it.”

“We _won_ ,” Shepard nods.

I can’t help the grin spreading across my face. “How does it feel?”

“It feels like…” He pulls me down for a kiss, and this one is more insistent, more heated. Our breathing quickens. I break off to look at his face, and I see the familiar hunger and longing that absolutely makes me melt.

"You sure?" I ask him. "Isn’t it too soon - "

He interrupts me by pulling me down for another, longer kiss. I move my leg over one of his and feel his other cross over to pin me to him. It's weak, but it's as insistent as the kiss. I brace myself above him on my arms so I don't crush him. His hands work up under my tank top and along my waist and inside the line of my underwear and then lower.

“I'm fine. But we might need to get creative here.”

"Shepard - " I breathe low.

“So whatever we're going to do, we need to do it quick," he says, still kissing me and undoing my belt buckle. "I don't trust them to stay away for long, and there's no way in hell I'm letting you off this bed to lock the door."

“Alright, hang on.” I whip my head around.

 _If he’s in a cast and bedridden, there has to be_ -

“Lotion in the top drawer.” I kiss him again and then reach for it, almost spilling out of the bed.

Once it’s set next to me, I turn my attention back to him. I reach down between us and rub inside his thigh until I find what I'm looking for. He bites his lip and I smile wider. "Here. Just let me take care of you, Shepard."

Our hands work together to hike my pants and underwear down to my knees and then we undo the laces of his hospital pajama bottoms. Once we're both free of those constraints I start rocking our bodies slowly, one arm still propping my torso up and using the other to caress and rub and take both of us in hand where our scissoring legs meet. His cast is rough against the skin of my ribs and stomach, but his hands are working literal magic on my chest so it's really hard to care. Given how long we've been apart, it's not surprising when he gives one of my nipples a twist - one of our unspoken signals that the other should go faster. And I happily oblige. We're both slick and in an easy rhythm now.

"Kaidan - God - I love y - " His words disintegrate into a deep gasp as new warmth spreads through his body and flushes his cheeks. I grin at him while his body spasms from the pleasure and his moans quicken even as I keep thrusting against him in my sopping wet hand. Feeling his member pulse against mine makes me finish just a few seconds later, my own cries muffled by his mouth, and then we collapse together.

"Nice to know that some things haven't changed," he chuckles. I nuzzle his neck, relishing the feel of his stubble on my lips.

"And I still can't believe it took us so long to start doing this," I laugh back and then kiss him.

"Well, now we have all the time in the world."

The footsteps coming down the hall beg otherwise.

"Oh, _shit_ ," we both hiss and laugh at the same time.

I roll off the bed, doing my best to wipe our mess off his hospital gown with one of his sheets before wrapping it around my _very_ exposed waist, and hike his blanket up his chest as he works to at least get his pants back up. I sneak another kiss, and then just manage to throw him a disinfectant towel and jump into the lavatory a second before the other door opens. I feel like a teenager again as I stifle my laughter. I clean myself off and stuff the sheet behind the trash bin, and then flush the empty toilet and wash my hands before walking back out.

Thankfully, it's not Chakwas; we'd never have fooled her. Unfortunately, it's the only other woman I've never once been able to lie to successfully.

" _Mom?!_ "

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart," she says, eyes beaming.

"Oh, my God!" I laugh and scoop her into a hug. "How did you get here? Who - " I catch Shepard's mortified grin behind her.

" _Worst. Timing. Ever,_ " I mouth at him.

He puts his hands up and mouths back an exaggerated " _I'm_ so _sorry_ ," before saying aloud, "Surprise, Kaidan!"

"Shepard called me a few days ago to tell me you were alright and to introduce himself, and then he pulled some strings to get me a pass to visit for a few days!" Mom says and then kisses me on the cheek.

"I'm so happy he did! When did you get on board?"

"Sooner than expected, I think.” She eyes me shrewdly. Shepard grimaces a little and I stifle more laughter. "The shuttle left early so we could avoid some bad weather coming down from Alaska. I thought they'd send word to you…"

I kiss her on the cheek and hug her again. "Please, you don't have to explain anything. This is such a wonderful gift."

The door chimes and Traynor and Eriksson enter.

"I hope we're not interrupting, Commanders?" she asks. "We wanted to give you and Mrs. Alenko a few minutes alone."

I shake my head. "Not at all. It was such a wonderful surprise, I had no idea she was coming!"

"And ahead of schedule," Shepard says.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Commander. Didn't you see our note?" Traynor asks him. I look over at the pile of clothes they brought and sure enough there's a small data pad with Shepard's name on it.

I hand it to him and he reads, "'Commander Shepard, special delivery shuttle arriving three hours early due to inclement weather. Apologies for the inconvenience. Signed, Specialist Traynor.' Well, there it is. That's our fault for missing it. Thank you, Sam."

"No thanks is needed, sir," she says. "We didn't want to disturb either of you and I thought Commander Alenko would see it whenever he wanted to change out of his dress kit."

"Why change into a fresh uniform when it's just going to get soiled again later?" my mom asks oh-so-innocently.

 _Fucking hell, we're never gonna live this down_.

"Um, yeah, Sam, that was good thinking. We only just woke up," I say lamely. She balks, finally catching on, and Eriksson saves us all from any worse embarrassment.

"Admiral Hackett has prepared a private lunch for the three of you. It’s being served at 1300, so you have time to dress, Commanders. Mrs. Alenko, if you would be so kind as to follow me, I can show you to a washroom if you would like to freshen up as well?"

"Yes, thank you, Lieutenant Eriksson," Mom replies. "And please, call me Lielle - you and Lieutenant Traynor."

"Certainly, ma'am," Eriksson says. "Right this way."

"I'll see you in a few minutes," my mom tells us and leaves.

Traynor closes the door and then goes completely pale. "I am _mortified_ , Commanders. I deeply apologize for interrupting - ” She grimaces at her choice of words. “Er, for springing her on you without checking first."

"No, Sam, it's fine," I say and shrug at Shepard. "What? It's not like this is the first time she's caught me in bed with a boyfriend."

Sam unsuccessfully stifles a snort, and Shepard buries his face in his hands. "I'm not sure I could have made a worse first impression."

"Oh, believe me, you could have."

"I'll, ahem, let you two get ready and wait outside, Commanders," Traynor says and then practically runs from the room.

I double-over in horrified, mostly silent laughter, and Shepard starts apologizing over and over.

"She hates me. Kaidan, does she hate me now? Oh, _God_ , if she'd been two minutes earlier…" he trails off.

"No, she doesn't hate you. But we should be thankful we weren't doing anything I really wanted to do," I gasp between laughs. "What's a family holiday without some minor emotional scarring that lasts a lifetime?"

"And this isn't the first time she's caught you in bed? Why would you give me that ammunition?"

"Oh, she'd tell you anyway because she still finds the whole thing hilarious almost twenty years later. At least you've been warned now.” I take a few deep breaths, deliberately not looking at Shepard until I absolutely have to. "Can you handle a shower?"

"Sure, if you help me in. But I think we only have time for one round, so we'd better be quick," he says.

" _Not_ what I meant, Shepard. Come on, let's get you presentable."

I help him into the bathroom and out of his clothes, some pieces more soiled now than others. The shower is barely big enough for both of us, but I don't want to risk him falling and frankly neither of us mind the closeness. I help him wash so he doesn't have to strain anything, and he steals more kisses from me the whole time. We get dressed, me in my commando regs, him in a pair of commando reg pants and a buttoned N7 t-shirt three sizes too big because it's all we can do to raise his arms enough to put anything else on besides a hospital gown. I help him to his chair, giving him a clean blanket to hold on to in case he gets cold and another deep kiss because he asks for it, and then we go out.

We're escorted again through completely empty hallways. You wouldn't think this was a capital warship barely a month out from the largest conflict our cycle has ever seen. It's like we're ghosts, moving unseen and unnoticed. The only thing that breaks the illusion are the shipwide broadcasts calling various personnel to different places or giving notices about routine maintenance checks and emergency drills. Traynor and Eriksson bring us to what has to be Hackett's private dining room. It's lavish in jewel tones, furnished with dark exotic woods and textiles from a dozen different colony worlds. His personal chef, a strikingly beautiful woman with aquiline features, greets us with her staff. They've prepared a luxurious menu - except for Shepard's stricter diet, of course - but they're also able to substitute any number of dishes should we choose. They also ask us to consider our dessert choices now so that they can be cooked at the proper time. I decide on the blood orange-raspberry lava cake, and Shepard gives an extremely disgruntled order for a sample of every flavor of ice cream they can find since that's the only dessert he's allowed. After the chef and servers leave, we're left completely alone unless one of us pushes a small button to summon them.

"So, Shepard," my mom starts after we’ve tucked in. "What exactly are your intentions with my son?"

I cough on my wine, which I can already tell will only get worse with every sip. "Wow, Mom, straight for the jugular."

She shrugs and takes the glass from me to try herself. "I'm a nurse, what can I say? I know the weakest points of human anatomy, same as you do. And Shepard, dear, I'm kidding. I've just always wanted to say that."

"And I've always wanted someone to ask me so I can answer," Shepard counters.

Mom throws her head back and laughs. "For all he talked about you, dear, he never told me you're funny. And, Kaidan, I'm keeping this wine."

Shepard looks at me with feigned offense. "Really? You don't think I'm funny?"

"Intentionally? No, not often," I shoot back and then pull a lager from the drink cart situated next to us.

"Ouch. First the jugular, and now the heart," Shepard laughs, clutching his chest. "I'm a circulatory disaster this afternoon."

"Speaking of, I read your medical report," Mom says. "You've been through quite a lot the last few weeks."

"Yeah, he gave us quite a scare," I nod, taking his hand.

"And I gathered you weren't here for most of it, Kaidan?”

I shake my head. "None of it. We were separated on different ships during the last stage of the battle as the fleets retreated when the Crucible was about to fire."

"I know how hard that must have been for you both," she says, laying her hand on top of ours for a moment. "We could see the Citadel and what did you call it? the Crucible? up in orbit even in the middle of the day. And that was weeks before the red blast, whatever it was, destroyed the Reapers. I expect you can't tell me anything more about it?"

"No, Lielle, I'm sorry," Shepard says. "It's highly classified. Not that I don't trust you, of course."

"No, I understand, dear. And honestly it's probably better that I don't know any of the details. I just hate imagining what you both went through in the battle, and knowing would be worse. All we know, all we _need_ to know, is that whatever you did worked. You and the _Normandy_ have become a legend. Ask anyone on Earth who beat the Reapers and they'll tell you, 'The Shepard and the _Normandy_.'"

Shepard's saved from having to acknowledge the praise by the entrance of our lunch. My mouth waters at the sight and smell of filet mignon and roasted vegetables. Shepard watches it hungrily as it's set in front of me.

"Don't even think about it," I say, cutting off a piece and taking a bite.

"Lielle, has he always been this selfish with his food?" Shepard asks.

"Oh, yes, ever since he was a child the one thing he would never share was food unless he was cooking it."

"I have the hardest time picturing him as a kid," Shepard chuckles. "Tell me everything."

"And here we go," I groan, pointedly taking another bite while Shepard frowns at his chicken noodle soup.

He and my mom go back and forth about me for half an hour solid. Yes, I did use my fledgling biotics to make my toy ships fly. Yes, I had a little more trouble than most learning to read but once I could it was all I ever wanted to do. No, I didn't have a lot of friends, just a few close ones. No, I didn't always want to be in the Alliance; I’d wanted to be a teacher until being convinced my biotic talents could be used to help the galaxy. Yes, I'd always been more interested in men than in women. Yes, being particular about my hair was always my trademark. Shepard drinks in every word, delighting in details that we'd never had the luxury of time to cover. Mom's fair to me and yet showers me with praise every chance she gets. I've told her enough about Shepard's rough upbringing with the Reds that she doesn't try to get him to reciprocate stories. We brush past my time at Jump Zero. No need to revisit any of that.

We've moved on to my early Alliance years by the time our meals are almost crumbs on our plates and dessert is about to be brought out. I clear my throat and stretch, loudly and obviously, away from my plate, and Shepard seizes his opportunity and my last bite of steak.

"Mmmm," he moans. "God, that's good."

"You're welcome," I say, slapping him on the back.

"How much longer are you in real food exile?" Mom asks.

"Another few days. They've got me on every protein supplement imaginable, but I miss eating. And this stuff's not exactly what we're used to on the _Normandy_."

"Here.” She slides her plate and the last few bites of her own steak over to him. "I won't tell if you won't, and another few bites won't kill you."

He leans over and kisses her cheek before saying, "You're the best of mothers and best of nurses," and spearing the first piece.

"That's right, Shepard, lay that charm on thick," I laugh and drain my bottle.

"Oh, please, Kaidy, like you didn't start singing his praises from the moment you met him," she accuses.

Shepard gives me another shit-eating grin and I stare him down. "I told her you were experienced and an incredible field commander."

"And?" she says, drawing out the word. "What else did you say about him? I'll tell him if you won't."

I roll my eyes and laugh. "And I said, 'Mom, he's the most drop-dead gorgeous man I've ever met.'"

" _And?_ "

I sigh. "'Screw command regs. I'd break ranks with him in a heartbeat if he asked.'"

Shepard grabs his napkin and holds it to his mouth so he doesn't spit out his steak laughing. Mom claps for me and then holds on to Shepard's shoulder as she laughs with him.

"Yes, that's what I told her after you were assigned to the _Normandy_. And I think we've hit every major embarrassing milestone in my life, thank you, Mom," I say.

"Oh, so you _did_ tell him about the time I caught you with Arthur whatshisname?"

" _No_ ," I groan and throw my head back helplessly.

"You did promise me she’d tell this story," Shepard says unsympathetically. "I'm deeming it critical dossier information. I promise I'll still love you after."

I hide my face in my hands, laughing despite myself, as she regails him with my post-Jump Zero fling when I moved back home. The only word I get in during the story is, "I was eighteen and my life was kind of a disaster."

She ends with telling him how Arthur literally ran from the house without his shoes on. "I did feel terrible for him," she says. "Vancouver is still cold in March."

"Well, now I feel bad for him," Shepard says.

"Don't be. At least it was mom that caught me. She was cool about it. My dad would have been - " I stop dead. Incredibly, it's the first time we've mentioned him all morning. "He would have been angry about the broken lamp," I finish softly.

"Oh, Kaidan, it's alright." Mom reaches for my hand as I blink tears away. I don’t get it. I've had time to process it since I found out his unit went missing so early on. That was a death sentence, and I accepted it.

"Why don't I go so you two can talk?" Shepard asks softly.

"Unless Kaidan says otherwise, I insist you stay, dear," Mom tells him.

I lean over and kiss his cheek. "Stay. This is a family lunch."

"I'm sorry I didn't think to check on him before we talked again. I'd have saved you some worry."

"No, I knew," I say. "As soon as I heard he'd volunteered with his unit again and they'd gone missing, I knew. Yeah, I know a lot of units were listed as MIA in those first few weeks and popped up later as guerilla groups, but I felt it in my gut that he was dead. And I keep trying to think of the last words we said to each other, but I can't remember. That's what I regret. I probably left the house too fast and didn't say anything of substance. We all had dinner about a week before the attack, and that - yeah, that was the last time I saw him. Do you remember what he and I said, Mom?"

She shakes her head. "No, he walked you out while I was still on the porch. But I can tell you the last thing he said about you.”

“Yeah?”

She nods and reaches to take my hand. “It was the last morning we spent together, a few days after the attack. You know we were on our way to the orchard. He kept looking back the whole way. By sunset, there was smoke across the entire horizon. We got to the house and made what plans we could with Uncle James and Aunt Olivia, but your father was restless. He didn’t want to wait around even though we were already starting to see other refugees pass through. We were listening to the latest report out of Vancouver when they confirmed that Alliance Headquarters was dust. He held me and said, 'Don't worry, Lielle. Our son is strong and he'll make it through. Whatever these bastards throw at him, he'll beat them.' I asked him how he knew and he said, 'Because we raised a good man. We raised a man who knows his strengths and has beaten everything this universe has thrown at him. Kaidan has surrounded himself with friends who help take care of him, people who look out for each other. He's smart and he's strong. He's going to be alright, you'll see.'"

"Christ.” I massage my temple as Shepard’s hand rubs across my shoulders. “He wouldn't have said that fifteen years ago," I mutter.

"No, he wouldn't have," Mom admits. "And you wouldn't have listened to it if he had. But you two worked so hard to understand each other later on. And you became so much closer after you both finally worked through the grief of Jump Zero. He regretted pushing you toward the Alliance so hard when you were young, and he blamed himself for what happened. After you re-enlisted he became prouder of you each year - not because you went back, but because you did it on _your_ terms and made it your own. He saved every news clip of you after the first battle of the Citadel. And he would have been so proud to learn that you’d been made a Spectre."

I wipe away more tears. Shepard’s movements become more insistent. _I can’t deal with this right now. Not today._

"I wish we'd had more time,” I finally manage to say.

"Sweetheart, so do I," Mom says. "After he said all of that about you, he received a call from his former XO who’d settled down in Vernon. She told him she was organizing local groups of veterans, and he told her he was on his way. We had just a few minutes together while he packed before he had to leave, and that was it. We never spoke again. I'm sorry you didn't get to say goodbye."

I need both of them to stop looking at me like I’m the broken one at this table.

"Yeah, me, too," I whisper and then clear my throat. "Still, part of the job territory - his and mine. Something else always takes priority from what you really need to do."

Mom’s quiet for a minute, and then she asks, “Do you think you'll stay in the Alliance?"

I look at Shepard. "I don't know, it's not something we've talked about yet."

"It's hard to imagine anything else, isn't it?" he asks me and I nod. "Hackett's been asking me for a few days and my answer's been the same - I can't decide anything without you."

"So, we have a lot to talk about then.” He nods and I kiss the back of his hand. "Can it wait until after tomorrow? I don't want to ruin Christmas with it all."

"Boxing Day it is," he nods. "Gives us time to think and enjoy some more time off."

"For what it’s worth, I think you two will be fine," Mom says. "You'll figure something out. Now, I’m sorry to leave so soon, but I’d like to go back for a nap."

"A nap sounds amazing, and Chakwas will have my head if I miss my treatments this afternoon," Shepard says. "Kaidan?"

"I think I’ll walk you two back and then go for a run or hit the gym," I say. "You know how it is - laps on the _Normandy_ get kind of pathetic after a while. I'd like to explore the _Denali_ a bit while we're here."

* * *

My mom's room is only a level above the hospital wing, so we drop her off first. I wheel Shepard back to his room, make sure he's settled while Doctor Chakwas starts him in on some IV drips while he sleeps. I change into shorts and a tank top, pull up a map of the _Denali_ on my omnitool, put in my earpieces to blast music - a combination of signals that translate into the universal military language of “bother me and die” - and take off. It feels good to be on the move. As my body loosens up and my endorphins rise, my mind starts to untangle my web of emotions. Getting back to Shepard, being welcomed as a hero, seeing my mom and talking about my dad’s death; can all of this really have happened in less than eight hours? I run six kilometers around the ship before ending up at one of its full gyms, meaning there are regular and biotic sections.

There are plenty of off-duty soldiers there of every species, but no one comes to talk to me. I throw myself into an intense workout, mostly lifting weights and a biotics agility course favorite in a side chamber. It involves running on a three-meter wide treadmill while weighted balls and boxes are thrown at me. I either need to catch, dodge, or blast them out of my way before they’re recycled and come at me again in different configurations. I love it because it requires all of my focus since the obstacles definitely hurt if they hit or trip you up. The transparent walls are vidscreens that can be programed to simulate running on an actual battlefield, but I leave them clear. I’ve seen enough combat for a while. I let the course run its cycle five times before I’m winded and starting to get slow with my reactions. Well, not _slow_ \- I’d still be fine in an actual fight, but I’m not trying to kill myself with this workout either. And that’s when I notice I’ve attracted an audience because I’m an idiot who didn’t at least make the walls opaque.

I leave the room and a woman approaches me. I take my earpiece out and she says, “Nice runs, Commander Alenko.”

“Thanks, and you are?”

“Service Chief Chang, sir.”

“Anything I can do for you, Chief?” I ask warily. I’m not signing autographs.

“No, sir, my squad just wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done,” she replies. “We were over in the other biotics chamber when we noticed your work. Well, got distracted is more like it - meaning no offense, sir.”

“None taken, Chief.” I take a look at her squad. They’re all young. _God, did_ I _look that young when I was their age?_ “Biotic squad, huh? Grissom?”

Chang nods and smiles. “Just me, sir. Graduated from Ascension right before the invasion hit. I picked up the rest of them along the way. Tried to get us into your biotics division, but no dice with everything going on once you got your Spectre status.”

I nod, taking another swig from my water bottle. “Yeah, sorry about that. Things got kinda crazy.”

“Chief, ask him,” one of her squad whispers.

“Corporal, you just earned mess duty for the rest of the month,” she barks at him. “I apologize, sir, I told them we could come thank you but not bother you. We’ll be going now.”

“I suppose you should ask me now and then I’ll decide if it’s a bother,” I say. I remember being in awe of some of my instructors when I was younger. Propriety or not, it takes guts to speak up like that.

Chang stiffens, not without a sidelong glance at her corporal, and then says, “They were hoping you might be willing to settle an argument, sir. And perhaps give us a short demonstration?"

I look at my omnitool. I've been gone for almost four hours. "I’d be happy to, Chief. I can give you fifteen minutes."

The faces of her squad light up and we walk over to a biotics chamber. It's a mostly plain room with the same weighted objects as the agility course but without the movement. They gather in a semi-circle around me.

"Alright, what am I settling?" I ask.

"Half of the squad thinks using their hands to focus their biotic energy when moving objects is completely necessary. The other half say it's not," Chang says.

"And what did you tell them to do?"

"We’re working on the basics of a Pull-Throw, so I told them to accomplish their task however they can, sir.”

I shrug a little. "A well-measured response. Alright, everyone, let’s start easy. Physics 101: What happens when you pull and push an object at the exact same time with the exact same amount of force?"

"It remains stationary, sir," a private answers and I nod.

"Sir Isaac Newton would be so proud of you. And what happens if you pull an object first but then hit it with an equal force?"

"Sir, assuming the counter angle is exact, it would cease all forward movement and stop," another says.

"Alright, the squad's two for two. So, the Pull-Throw maneuver requires a push force significantly greater than the pull force to drive the object away from you. The exact newtons are irrelevant in a battle situation when you're trying to stay alive, so that rough explanation is good enough."

I prime my biotics and Pull a ball over to me, letting it fall into my hands.

“Corporal, catch.” I launch it at him from seven feet away at about fifty percent of my power. He’s quick, at least. He gets his hands up to form a Barrier while “catching” it with his biotics about a foot from his face, then lets the ball hang there midair.

“Corporal, why didn’t you Throw the ball back at me?” I ask.

He answers how I’d hoped he would, not by saying I hadn’t ordered him to, but by saying, “Sir, I wasn’t in control of its incoming velocity. I could have deflected it but a precise Throw back to you would have been exceedingly difficult.”

“That’s correct,” I nod. “Toss it back to me, and then execute a Pull-Throw once I have it - without using your hands.”

He takes a deep breath and then biotically Throws the ball over. I hold it loosely in my hands, and he Pulls it. It’s a decent attempt but without a lot of force. The Throw hits it and it spins right past my head by six inches. He looks absolutely mortified and there are a few chuckles around the room.

“Anyone want to volunteer to do better?” I ask. That shuts up the laughing. I Pull the ball back to me. “Alright, corporal, once more using your hands.”

He swallows hard and then nods. He primes, yanks the ball out of my hands using both of his to direct the dark energy, and then Throws it back at me perfectly. I put up a Barrier and let it drop to my hands.

“Brilliant,” I smile. “The Chief here has trained you well.”

The corporal grins sheepishly and the rest of them nod their approval. I toss the ball across the room so it rolls against the wall. Then I start pacing, a habit I picked up training my biotics spec ops squads.

“Alright, to settle the debate, here’s the lesson: You all know your hands don’t have anything to do with your biotics and implants directly. You could also Kick an object at an enemy without using your feet since it’s your mind that makes it a biotic attack. The corporal proved this when he performed the task without using his hands, but it was imprecise and weaker than his second attempt. Why? Because even if it’s purely psychological, using your hands focuses your mental energy. Period. I _rarely_ , if ever, do any biotics work in the field without using my hands to mimic and direct the action. The stakes are always, _always_ too high for mistakes and weak hits. And what’s more, I’ve met dozens and dozens of asari commandos. Not a single one of them relies purely on their mental capacity to use biotics; they always use their hands as well. It’s not an either-or question. Your mind and body have to work in perfect unison, and when you reach a certain level of finesse you can work different forces with each hand. For example…”

I turn, Pull the ball toward me with my left hand and then Throw it with my right. And while it’s still in the air, I Pull another ball into position and repeat the Throw. The first hits the far wall and explodes in a puff of sawdust, followed closely by the second. I hear a mixture of awe and murmured profanity behind me.

“I could go on and on like that,” I smile. “Can anyone tell which of my hands is dominant?”

“Your right, sir,” another corporal answers. “In this case your left hand had the easier, passive job of focusing your Pull and releasing it the microsecond you used your right to Throw.”

“And where did the space magic happen?” I nod, leading the question on.

“In your head, sir.”

I clap. “Precisely. It’s easier to focus your mind on doing the heavy lifting, so to speak, in a way your body already instinctively works. You don’t spike a skyballor swing a bat using your off-hand just because it’s possible. Yeah, you’ll probably make contact, but it’s never going to be as precise or as powerful as using your dominant hand. Same dynamic here. Yes, you can use just your mind to work the maneuver and if you’re good enough you’ll make it happen, but why wouldn’t you exercise your full ability? Learn and use your mnemonics because it will save lives. Does that solve the argument?”

Nods and “yessirs” all around.

“Very good. Chief, you have five minutes of my time left. Should we run them all through that same drill?”

“Yes, Commander. Thank you very much, sir.”

Her squad splits into pairs and practices Pull-Throwing back and forth. I only have about a minute with each pair, but I can instantly tell how the argument lines fell. For some of them, their hands are still almost an afterthought until I walk over and they remember to use them. They're all moderately proficient. If this were a year ago, some of them might’ve even ended up in my old biotics division by the time the invasion hit. And when my time's up, I decide to give them something else: I consent to stand in with them for a picture. Chang sets up her omnitool to take it, and they all gather around me. Hackett should be pleased that I'm making my rounds, I guess. It'll probably end up on promotional materials by tomorrow. I shake each of their hands on the way out and get Chang's contact information in case I do end up doing any training again.

I finally get back to Shepard’s room and walk in on half the crew packed in along with my mom. “Oh, this can’t be good.”

“Hey, there he is!” Shepard’s face is drawn with exhaustion, but the huge smile on his face says he wouldn’t have this be any other way.

“Kaidan, your mother has been telling us some amazing stories,” Tali says.

“Yeah, I bet she has,” I groan and give Mom a kiss on the cheek. “Let me freshen up and then we can all go get dinner? The way things have been today I’m sure Admiral Hackett’s got a feast prepared.”

“No, that’s tomorrow,” Garrus says. “Lielle was explaining the historic importance of Christmas and its connection to overeating, so we all decided to have a light meal brought here so we can save room for the feast.”

 **“ _Some_ of us decided that,”** Wrex grumbles.

“Trust me, Wrex, it’ll be worth it,” Mom says. “And I’ve made some arrangements with Admiral Hackett’s kitchen staff to make your favorite Christmas ham, Kaidy.”

Garrus, Tali, and Liara look at each other like, well, like Christmas just came early. Wrex stares at my mom for a second and then at me, sees my face, and asks her, **“I thought we weren’t giving gifts until tomorrow morning?”**

“Mom, really?” I ask in complete defeat. I’ll never hear the end of this.

“Oops,” she shrugs. She has the audacity to lie to my face and act sorry.

“Lielle, thank you so much for bringing - what was it? Ah, right, ‘Christmas joy’ into our lives,” Garrus says.

“Four years,” I mutter, rubbing my eyes. “I made it almost four years without that coming up.”

“Puts the whole ‘no one ever calls me anything but “Shepard”’ thing into perspective, doesn’t it?” Liara asks him.

“Definitely better than Kaidy,” Shepard laughs.

“I can see it working for you,” Tali tells me. “No, honestly, you wear it well. And then maybe when you turn seven we’ll switch to calling you ‘Kaidan’.”

“He didn’t mind being called it at ten, Tali,” Mom says just to drive the knife in a _little_ bit deeper.

“Okay, so how long did you invite my mother for, Shepard? When’s she leaving, and when are the rest of them going away?”

“Kaidy, the _rudeness_ ,” Garrus says. “Go take your shower and wash your mouth out with soap, young one. Wait! While Kaidy's gone, someone needs to call James and tell him about this new nickname."

**“I think ‘Urdnot Kaidy’ is a great name. I’ll convince Bakara to name our second-born Kaidy.”**

“Hey, I thought I had dibs on the second-born’s name!” Shepard protests.

“I call third,” Garrus says.

“Fourth!” Liara and Tali shout at the same time.

“And I’m leaving now,” I say and endure their good-natured laughter until I’m in the bathroom with the water streaming around me.

I don't take too long, though it's hard not to enjoy the fact that it's a private shower and not the communal one on the _Normandy_. I hop out, dry off, let my hair set with my biotics, and go back outside. The food is arriving, and each of us grabs a tray. It's not quite up to our lunch standards, but it's still pretty damn good. Conversation has thankfully turned to topics other than my embarrassing diminutive. Steve and Sam have both joined us and managed to find leaning space against one of the walls.

Shepard beckons me over and I manage to squeeze between Wrex and the bed. "Hey, have you heard from Joker tonight?" he asks quietly.

I shake my head. "No, I checked in on him out on my run and he was resting. Do we need to send someone to get him?"

"Steve said James hung back with him. But why don't you invite him up anyway and then we'll see. I'm worried about him."

"Sure thing, Shepard. I'll be right back." I squeeze back out of the room and into the hallway. I activate my omnitool and check my crew operations suite. I didn't call or message Joker on my run; I checked on his vitals and where he was. So far nothing to worry about, but I'm still keeping close tabs on him per Doctor Chakwas's recommendation. I ping his comm and it beeps a few times.

 _"Commander?"_ he asks and I breathe a silent sigh of relief.

"Hey Joker. We wanted to check in, see how you're doing."

_"Doing alright, Kaidan. I've been resting today mostly. Went for a walk just to clear my head. Tried to sneak onto the bridge. You know, to see if they'd let me take a look around."_

He's lying. He hasn't left his assigned quarters all day except briefly at lunch.

"Playground of your dreams, huh?"

_"Yeah, you got it. Maybe I'll try again tomorrow.”_

"Sounds good. Feel like heading up here for some grub? A bunch of us are crowding into Shepard's room and having dinner. Rumor is we might watch ‘A Mars Christmas Carol’ later."

_"Yeah, I know. Steve told me a while ago. I'm not really feeling up for another group activity tonight. It's been a long day, week, however long. I mean, you get it.”_

_Steve and James pull through again_.

"Oh, I definitely get it. Couldn't even remember what day it was until Shepard told me earlier. Still, I hate that you guys are by yourselves tonight.”

_“Really, it’s fine. We, uh, well, Christmas was always a big family thing for me back on Tiptree. But I’m alright, I’ve got James here to keep my company.”_

I mentally kick myself for not doing this earlier. “Joker, hold a second, let me put in a request. Stay on with me.”

He gives an affirmative and I start typing furiously, accessing whatever databases I can with our limited comms and my Spectre status. Alliance systems are a mess, and it looks like we haven’t heard from every colony yet. I do all I can and get Joker back on the line.

“Alright, I should’ve done this earlier today. I just requested a report from Tiptree,” I tell Joker. “Looks like it might be a while to get through out there, but I’ve slapped every priority label on it I can. As soon I get an update on your family, I’ll let you know.”

There’s silence on his end until, _“Hey, thanks, Kaidan. I really appreciate it. I couldn’t get any info earlier from the refugee personnel files, so - yeah, thanks. You should get back into the party, though.”_

“Will do. Get some rest, Joker. You'll at least be at the Christmas feast tomorrow, right?"

 _"_ That _I won't miss. It's as good a time as any for some victory cake."_

"Hell yeah," I laugh. "Any requests? I'm sure we can get pretty much anything we ask for tomorrow."

_"You ever had orange liqueur cake? It’s heaven in a bite."_

"Can't say I have, but it sounds amazing. I'll get that in tonight. Sleep well, and we'll see you tomorrow."

_"G’night, Commander. And thanks again."_

I want to tell him there’s no sense in assuming the worst yet. But I don’t. I’m already on razor-thin ice with him, and anything could break it.

"You're welcome. Alenko out."

The pit in my stomach loosens, but I still don't feel good about his situation. Chakwas still has him on suicide watch, but she thinks he’ll be alright as long as we're on top of keeping him in the loop without making him a charity case. She says he just needs time to adjust to being back, and we have to figure out what he’s doing next. I send her a quick update before going back in.

Shepard raises his eyebrows expectantly, and I mouth an all clear. He nods a little and gets sucked back into a conversation about turian and quarian holidays. No way I can get back over to him now so I take a free seat and finish my meal in the corner, watching everyone and smiling to myself. We eventually end up basically in a pile on one side of the room while my omnitool, set up against Shepard's feet, projects the movie. Surprisingly, everyone makes it through to the end without falling asleep. And right as the credits roll, Chakwas storms in, berating all of us for not letting Shepard rest. Everyone says goodbye, hugs my mom, and then files out.

"Kaidan, my quarters have two rooms," Mom says. "You'd be more comfortable in there."

"Yeah, I know. But I'm good here. I'm having a second bed brought in. Thank you for coming all this way," I say, and then hug her tightly. "And I do want to talk more sometime. You know, about dad and putting some stuff together for a funeral."

"Of course, sweetheart. Whenever you want. Or, rather, whenever we can manage to find the time." She stretches up to kiss my forehead and then goes to give Shepard a hug. "Goodnight, Shepard."

"Goodnight, Lielle. See you in the morning."

She leaves and some orderlies come in to move Shepard's bed over and bring one in for me. They set them way too far apart, so once they're gone I lower the side guards on both beds and push them together before locking their wheels. I strip down out of my fresh clothes into my shorts and undershirt and get under the covers. Shepard has to sleep on his back, but we slide over as close as we can get with me on my side facing him and our hands grasped.

"Kaidan?"

"Mmmm?" I'm already fading.

"I think this may have been the best day of my life."

I smile and manage to find a better position so I can stretch over and lay my head on his shoulder. "Hard to imagine it getting any better."

"Right? I love you." His voice is getting sleepy and slow, too.

"Love you, too, Shepard. Merry Christmas."

We fall asleep and stay that way until morning. I wake up briefly when Chakwas comes in early and sets a small Christmas tree on the bedside table. She holds a finger to her lips and winks. I smile back and then close my eyes again. Shepard doesn't stir an inch, and his steady breathing lulls me back to sleep. They've obviously turned off the intercoms in our room and hallway because the 0600 reverie doesn't sound. I wake up around 0900, better rested than I've been in ages, and the room has been transformed.

"Hey, Shepard," I whisper, shaking his shoulder softly. "Look."

"Hmmmm? Oh, wow," he laughs once he opens his eyes. Strings of colored fairy lights crisscross the walls between lines of tinsel and real evergreen garlands. The fresh, bright smell of Christmas fir fills the room.

"How long do you think we have before we're ambushed by everyone?" he asks.

"I give it five minutes, tops.”

"I'll take it," he says and then pulls me all the way over onto his bed. He wraps his arms around me and we just lie there looking at the lights. We end up getting seven minutes before there's a chime at the door. We look at each other and sigh.

"Here we go again," I grumble and then call, "Just a minute!"

"Hold on a second," he says as I start to move off the bed. He pulls me back onto him by the front of my collar and kisses me. He looks so deeply into my eyes that I feel like I'm falling in love all over again.

"Wow. What was that?"

He shrugs a little and gives a cocky half-grin. "I didn't really have time to go out shopping for a present. You know, what with being stuck in bed and all. So I figured I'd give you a taste of what's coming to you later."

I groan and arch my head back. He goes in for the spot just under my jawline that he knows turns me on like almost nothing else.

"You are _such_ a tease," I moan. The door chimes again. "C'mon, we have to go."

"Eh, you might want to give it a minute," he points out, drawing my attention to how stiff I'm getting. I swat his hand away and kiss him.

"Stop it," I laugh. "We have the rest of our lives for that, and right now we _have_ to get ready."

"Alright, alright." He lets me up, and I throw on some pants and answer the door.

Mom rushes in and gives me a huge hug. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, Mom."

"Alright, we have some things for both of you. Sam, help me bring everything in?"

"Of course, Lielle. Good morning, Commanders," she says and brings a box in. Eriksson follows her in with another one and salutes us once they’ve set it down.

"At ease, Lieutenant," Shepard chuckles. "I can't remember the last time Traynor saluted either of us."

“It’s true, Örjan,” Sam says. “The _Normandy_ crew doesn’t stand on ceremony unless the brass is around.”

“I see.” Örjan stiffens, eyes flitting between me and Shepard.

“No, really, LT,” I smile. “We’ve always had bigger things to worry about. Just help out where you can, follow Sam’s lead until you get your bearings - ”

“And don’t ever take your cues from Garrus or Vega,” Shepard cracks. “Those two are merciless with new faces.”

“Understood, Commanders. Thank you," they respond. Alright, still a little formal, but their shoulders do actually loosen up a bit. We’ll work on it.

"Alright, enough shop talk,” mom says. “You’ll end up making them _more_ nervous. Here - Kaidan, Shepard, take your pick," She holds up a few knit Christmas sweaters. "And there's more in the box if you don't like these.”

"Where did these all come from?" I ask.

"I brought them from the field hospital," she explains. "Some of the patients and volunteers were making them as thank you gifts for the medical staff. Once the staff heard I was probably coming to see you and your crew, they told me to bring them and hand them out."

"That's so kind of them," Shepard says. "Long sleeves are a little hard to manage right now, Lielle. Got anything else in there I might wear?"

"Oh, sure.” She starts pulling things out of the boxes. "Knit hats, mittens, scarves - though we may want to save those for Wrex and Grunt - oh! How about this?"

Everyone in the room laughs as she pulls out a red Santa hat.

Shepard holds out his hand and grins. "Yep, that's mine. Hand it over." She tosses it to him and he jams it onto his head over the bandage and everything.

"Dashing," I say with a wink.

Shepard flicks the pompom over to one side and back. "Oh, this is fun. I've never gotten to wear one of these before. Alright, Kaidan, your turn. What are you wearing today?"

"Alright, let me see," I say, rifling through the box and comparing items. "Here, this one." I select a midnight blue sweater with a red collar and cuffs and white geometric shapes. I pull it on over my shirt. "It's a little tight."

Shepard grins appreciatively. "No complaints here. It looks good!"

"He’s right. Alright, Kaidan, go over and sit by him so I can take a picture of you," Mom says and pulls her camera out of her bag.

"Lielle, is that an actual film camera?" Sam asks with mounting interest.

"Yes, it's a vintage 2080s Polaroid. It's an old Alenko family tradition. The film costs a fortune, as you can imagine. So when a single picture costs two hundred credits they have to be memorable, and this is one of those important mornings. Ready? Smile! No, Kaidan, lean in a bit so I can get the tree in the frame. Okay, smile!"

We strike a positively demure pose. Shepard smiles and gives her a thumbs up with his cast arm. I'm half off the bed and have to lean on my left arm as my right grips the mattress to hold on. But it ends up being a perfect shot.

  


[ _First Christmas_ ](https://crowthis.tumblr.com/post/38693050351/shepard-is-alive-aaaaand-hsptl-christmas)

"Oh, that's just lovely.” Mom smiles down at the picture when it develops. "Oh, Sam, Örjan, do either of you have a pen?"

"Yes, I do," Örjan says and hands it to her.

"Perfect, perfect," she says, writing something on it. "Alright, Shepard, we'll let you get changed and go down with you to breakfast?"

"Sounds great.” Everyone leaves as I help him to the edge of the bed and he sits with his feet dangling.

"Okay, let's get you out of your pants.”

"I've waited my whole life for someone who can say that," he laughs.

"Happy to be of service, whatever you need.” I get him into fresh skivvies and pajamas, and then help him up out of the bed.

He stands there for a minute, testing his balance and flexing his knee brace, then says, "I think I'm up for walking over with the crutch."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Bring the chair, I guess, but I'm sick of not moving under my own power."

"Alright, let's just take it nice and slow. And tell me when you need to stop or if you need to sit."

"Yes, Nurse Kaidan."

He makes it almost halfway before his leg gives out and I have to catch him. Örjan passes us the chair, and Shepard sits heavily.

"I'm sorry for holding us up. I thought I could do it."

"You're making incredible progress," my mom says in her classic nurse tones. "You should be proud."

"I feel like Tiny Tim," he grumbles.

Mom pats his shoulder. "You'll get there. With time, which is awful waiting when you're used to being so active."

We arrive back at the admirals' dining hall where we had breakfast yesterday, and it's obvious we're going to be here all day. The main conference table has been pushed to one wall and is now a buffet line. The rest of the tables have been removed and replaced by low tables and armchairs. My only assumption is that Admiral Hackett's staff raided the personal suites of a dozen senior officers since there's no way they'd waste resources bringing all of this up from Earth. Except, of course, for the fully decorated twelve-foot Douglas fir dominating the room opposite the buffet table. We're greeted with rousing cheers from our entire crew, and it looks like we've found our strays. Jack, Zaeed, Kasumi, and Jacob rush forward to greet Shepard.

"About time you dragged your ass in here, Shepard." Jack leans in for a surprisingly tender hug. At least she's not kissing and punching him like he told me she did at Grissom. "You fucking scared us, you bastard."

"I'm telling your Grissom squad you owe them credits for swearing," he laughs. "I heard you all fared pretty damn well."

"More than 'pretty damn well.’ They were incredible. Seems like they got inspiration from some suicidally brave maniac who isn't me."

"It’s true, I saw them in action," Jacob confirms. "You'd have been impressed. Damn good to see you, sir."

"Likewise, Jacob," Shepard says, shaking his hand. "How's Doctor Cole and the team? Did everyone make it out?"

Jacob shakes his head. "Brynn made it. Half of them didn't. Our second transport ship got shot down on the way to London.”

"Shit," Shepard says. "I'm so sorry."

"Thanks, Commander. It was a rough go, but none of us regretted a thing working on the Crucible. Was all worth it in the end thanks to you."

Shepard nods. "Didn’t do it without help.”

“Damn right, Shepard.”

“Zaeed, you bastard,” Shepard grins as Jacob steps aside. “Heard they had a little trouble getting to you.”

"Was sitting fine and pretty down in Sydney when an Alliance shuttle picked me up right on Bondi," he says. "Said I had an invite from the top to come on up here for a party. Figured I couldn't pass on the free grub, right?"

"Sounds about right. No other reasons to come and see your old team?"

"'Course not," he replies.

Shepard suddenly grabs the wheelchair brakes. "Kasumi, I swear if you start pushing my chair while you're cloaked, you're not getting a present!"

Kasumi appears about four inches away from my face, making me flinch back. "You're getting good, Shepard. Nice catch. I'd watch that hat, though, might need it for myself."

“Not a chance,” Shepard laughs. “I’m actually surprised you made it up here.”

Kasumi shrugs. “I had some free time on my hands.”

“Uh, huh. And how’s that?”

“Let’s just say breaking into trillionaires' secure vaults to provide the masses some post-war relief is a little easier when city power grids are already down.”

“What in the actual - ” I start.

“What? Pretty sure they’re dead anyway.”

And then she disappears again.

“Okay, nobody heard _anything_ ,” Shepard says loudly. “Trust me, Kay, it’s just - easier.”

“Fair enough.”

I wheel Shepard to the middle of the room and then escape the sudden onslaught of our crew. My mother decks out everyone in colorful sweaters and scarves. Wrex and Grunt end up having to tie multiple scarves together to really fit around their necks and drape properly. Our engineers and Glyph rig up some music, and Shepard’s smile widens and doesn’t leave his face.

The rest of the morning passes in a blur of food, faces, and laughter. By noon, Shepard’s the only one of us who’s sober and even then it’s only because Chakwas is watching him like a hawk. I still manage to slip him an entire mimosa, and I consider it one of the proudest moments of my life. Underneath the tree is understandably empty because who has time to go shopping when the galaxy is ending? Still, Liara took it upon herself last night to have Glyph randomize a gift exchange for all of us after learning about the tradition of “Secret Santa.” Glyph, who has altered his appearance so it looks like he’s wearing an elf hat, sends the names to our omnitools and we promise that we’ll have gifts ready as soon as supply lines open again. Grunt approaches me in secret and I have to explain to him that, no, my mom would _not_ appreciate a specific top-of-the-line shotgun as much as he would. On the plus side, now _I_ know exactly what to get Grunt. Shepard and I make a bet on how many guns and or mods will be exchanged, and I think he lowballs it. I also learn quickly that I can’t get anywhere near him without one of our towering krogan appearing out of nowhere with an evil grin and a sprig of mistletoe dangling over Shepard’s chair - undoubtedly my mom’s doing. Not that I mind.

Shepard and my mom have taken to each other quickly, as I knew they would if they ever had a chance to meet. They laugh at the same jokes and make similar deadpan, sarcastic comments about themselves as much as others - but always in good humor, never out of malice. I smile to myself and think about how unbelievably lucky I am to have him. He and I have been skating around the idea of marriage, making comments here and there about being together for the long run, not even remotely approaching the idea of us taking a step back or slowing down as the galaxy recovers. I have the unpleasant feeling that our planned talk tomorrow is either going to make or break everything for us. Still, as essential as it is, I also can’t help myself from getting my hopes up. Honestly, with everything we’ve already been through, what could possibly keep us apart?

We’ve forgiven and forgotten the whole Cerberus-Horizon thing, me walking away and him acting like no time had passed. We both hate even the mention of that colony in any context. Doesn’t always stop me from beating myself up, though. He came back into my life - impossibly - and I swear I’ll never take that for granted. I only wish we hadn’t lost those two years after the first _Normandy_ met its demise. And that thought gives me an idea I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of before. During a particularly rowdy rendition of “The Twelve Days of Christmas,” which gets a complete rewrite to include every major species of the galaxy, I pull Glyph aside and task him with making something for Shepard that he has to keep a secret.

Even though Shepard is clearly doing significantly better than the second time we spoke over the QEC, his strength hasn’t returned and he still has to leave for the better part of the afternoon with Chakwas for his treatments. I get ready to go with him, but he waves me down and tells me that they can manage his medically-induced nap without me so I should stay and enjoy the party. I think he also just needs a little break from everyone - including me, which is fine - so I agree. I lean in to kiss him, and a somewhat-inebriated Wrex accidentally bowls me over trying to reach in with the mistletoe. Nothing’s hurt but my dignity and a bruised ass, and honestly it’s worth it to see everyone doubled-up laughing. Chakwas ushers Shepard out quickly, and the party resumes. Garrus and Tali start a poker game with some of the Omega Relay crew and the engineering team while James and the krogan swap stories from London. Liara sits my mom down and practically interrogates her to get more answers about the historic origins of Christmas.

 _You can take the xenoarchaeologist out of the dig site…_ My thought’s interrupted by Joker coming over with another drink for me.

“Hey, Commander.”

“Joker.” We clink our glasses. “How are you doing?”

“Good, good,” he says. “Hey, um, I know it hasn’t been that long since you put the request in…”

I cough a little on my drink because I try to talk too soon. “Oh, shit. Yeah, I forgot to check this morning, I’m sorry.” I pull up the information on my omnitool, and I shake my head as I swipe it over to him. “Nothing yet. Tiptree’s still out of contact.”

His face falls. “Is that because of bad comms, or - ” I put a hand on his shoulder without thinking. He doesn’t shrug it off at least. “Well, I guess we know what it means.”

“I don’t know about the colony itself, no. The message I got back is saying civilian records are taking longer to update because of the strain on our long-range comm systems. Everything’s bottlenecking, that's all. Do you have anything else I can give my contact?”

Joker takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “All I know is Tiptree got hit later on, and last we heard is that they got some transports away before things got bad. Closest systems they could have reached without risking a major Relay route are all outlying salarian colonies.”

I send a quick follow-up message on my omnitool. “That narrows it down some, but - ”

“I shouldn’t expect an answer anytime soon?”

“I don’t think so.” He nods and shrinks back, but he at least meets my eye. “I’m sorry, I really am.”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry, for, uh, bringing it up at the party.”

I shake my head. “You don’t have to apologize for anything. We’re having to figure out how to mourn and celebrate at the same time. It’s - not easy.”

“You’ve got that right,” he says and then his lips quirk up in the closest thing I’ve seen to a real smile on his face in weeks. “Thank God for alcohol, right?”

I can’t help but laugh in agreement. He tips his glass to me again before he’s pulled away by Tali, and for the first time I think that things might end up okay between us sooner rather than later. Still, our conversation gives me another idea.

I call for quiet, and I offer to pull up everyone’s dossiers and family information on my omnitool. Most of us already know whether or not our families and friends made it, but not everyone. At least if we all find out together, there’s company around for comfort and libations. The group’s final decision is that if the afternoon turns into a Christmas wake, so be it. We go in a circle, starting with Garrus. I’m able to call up information for almost everyone on our next-of-kin. Incredibly, of all of us gathered here today, only Traynor and Donnelly end up getting bad news confirmed. Traynor’s mother died in the first wave of attacks on Earth - she commanded an orbital defense platform - and one of Adams’s brothers was killed when the _Elbrus_ was destroyed at Arcturus Station. Both of them already assumed as much, so there isn’t much shock. We raise a glass to each of them, and they both say a few words.

One of the worst, almost dehumanizing parts of being in the military is that we always have this kind of speech prepared for everyone around us. Our training and duty demand that we put them out of mind completely, but there’s really no stopping the internal rehearsal in the dead of night between missions. We’re somewhat subdued the rest of the afternoon, breaking off into smaller groups and then mingling to talk about things we’ve lost, things we wish we’d done differently, things we’re hoping for. I didn’t intend for it to be so therapeutic, but even Traynor and Adams seem to be in better spirits by the time Shepard gets back. After the applause dies down, everything ramps right back up again with most of us dancing in the middle of the room to synth Christmas music.

I break away and huddle down next to Shepard. “How are you feeling?”

He wraps a hand around the back of my neck and pulls me in. “On top of the world. I’ve officially entered a new phase of my recovery. Karin’s new meds have bolstered my immune system literally overnight, and my non-neural implants are working at peak performance again. She says I’ll be out of the hospital in a week. Still won’t be in perfect shape for a while, but I can start taking things a little faster and eat real food - not to mention have exactly two glasses of champagne tonight if I space them out over two hours.”

“That’s amazing and I’m so proud of you! What the hell would we do without her?” I ask and successfully kiss him without getting tackled by a krogan. “And I’m glad we can take… things faster. Maybe later tonight?”

“Ah,” he laughs. “We’ll have to see. Not saying no, but my stamina’s going to take a little while to build back up to what we’re used to.”

“Hey, I will take whatever I can get - whenever I can get it - and however you want to do it,” I grin and accentuate each phrase with a kiss.

“Could you possibly be any more perfect?”

“Oh, I’m far from it but I guarantee you’re not going to find anyone better,” I say, popping my eyebrows once.

“Hey, do you need us to clear the room?” Tali calls to us.

“It’s not like you’d leave if we asked!” I yell back.

“Damn right, Commander L2,” James says. “This party is just getting going.”

Turns out he’s right. The final round of food comes in, everyone fuels up, and the Christmas party turns into a victory party that rivals our one on the Citadel. It doesn’t get quite as wild since we _are_ in Admiral Hackett’s executive wing after all, but it gets close. And either he’s away off-ship or the room has really good insulation because no one comes to stop us. By the fourth round of champagne toasting, the details start to get a little blurry. But I do catch snippets that I think I’ll remember the rest of my life: Steve, Zaeed, and James having a push-up contest and then all of them - to everyone’s eternal surprise - getting beaten by Tali; Liara and Wrex jousting with Jack and Grunt, the two biotics literally using their powers to hoist the krogan up to see which could heatbutt the other out of the air; Donnelly getting down on one knee and asking Daniels to marry him - which I hope they’ll remember tomorrow; Adams and Joker drunkenly making up a song about the _Normandy’s_ various engine parts in the style of Mordin’s favorite composers - which I hope they forget immediately; my mom standing of to the side with Chakwas, smiling and watching all of us enjoy each other’s company; Garrus drawing up designs for a sniper-arm using leftover chocolate sauce from one of the desserts; and me dancing with Shepard while he spins a little in his chair. Around midnight we quietly slip away back to his room, leaving the rest of them to it. But by the time we get there and get undressed, we’re so exhausted and buzzed that we can’t do anything except lie there in our beds together laughing at nothing. We eventually drift off and sleep.

* * *

I wake up groggy, but the headache isn’t bad at all. My amp gives me way worse. Still, there’s a little tray with some aspirin and a cup of water next to my bed, which I down greedily. I can hear Shepard in the bathroom. He comes out a minute later, freshly showered, without the bandage around his head, and dressed in shorts and a t-shirt.

“Wow, look at you,” I say, yawning. “Up and dressed and moving all on your own.”

“Amazing, right? Almost like a fully-functional human.”

“You’re doing pretty damn incredible, Shepard.”

“Thanks. I actually feel alright today. I almost can’t believe it.”

He smiles over at me, but it’s forced. And then I wake up enough to notice his tone, the clipped way his body moves to preserve absolutely every single last drop of energy because he knows he’ll need it later. In other words, he’s one hundred percent _Commander_ Shepard this morning. _Boxing Day_. Our talk. I stifle another yawn and try to ignore the pit in my stomach.

I sit up and catch his hand as he reaches for his N7 hoodie. He looks down at me and meets my eye, but his mind is a thousand lightyears away working through some problem or scenario.

“Shepard, honest answer - are you _sure_ you want to jump into things so soon.”

“Yeah, because I don’t know how long I’ll feel this good today. I could crash this afternoon and not be up for it later.”

“Okay, that’s not really what I meant, though.”

“Kaidan, I - ” His breath hitches and that hardsuit expression cracks just a little bit. And I truly hate the look behind his eyes. “Yeah, this is - we have things we need to - ” He releases a deep breath. “No, it can’t wait.”

“Alright, Shepard, I hear you.” I release his hand and swing my legs over the side of the bed. “You should eat first.”

“I called in breakfast. It’ll be here in ten.”

“Then I’ll get ready.”

I take all of five minutes to shower and the food’s already here when I come back out. We eat in silence and when we finish he puts down his tray and says, “I need to get out of this room.”

“Makes sense. Where do you want to do this?”

“The _Normandy_. I want to see how she’s doing, and that’s as good a place as any because we’ll have our privacy. And it feels right to talk about everything where we met, more or less.”

“It does. Let’s wheel you over there so you don’t have to spend all your energy walking?”

He nods, and that’s what we do. This time the halls are busy with personnel. More than a few look like they want nothing less than to swarm us for pictures and thanks, but most don’t give us a second look - or they flat out don’t recognize either of us in person or out of our armor. I suppose Hackett probably gave direct orders to the ship not to bother us if they see us. Still, I move us at a brisk pace anyway so no one can do anything except salute. It doesn’t take us long to get to the hangar. Somehow it’s even busier than the halls with cargo shuttles flying in and out making supply runs. The ranking deck officer rushes over when he sees us, snaps a smart salute, and then offers us anything we need. We have him extend the ramp to the _Normandy’s_ side hatch, and Shepard stands out of his chair. He takes his crutch from me and I take his other arm as we walk up. He pauses outside the hatch, putting his hand on the hull for a moment, and then keys in his identification. The hatch slides open and we go in. It’s disquieting seeing her empty like this.

“It feels smaller,” Shepard whispers. “Am I imagining that?”

I shake my head. “No, you’re right. Without anyone on board it feels so different. Like we crewed her in another life.”

He nods and walks over to a console. At first I think he’s absentmindedly checking systems, but then the display changes and he activates one of the ship’s security suites. It reports that the ship is completely empty except for us, and there are no active electronics present except for the basic systems and my omnitool. I step over to him and he shrugs.

“Like I said, I want us to have privacy.”

“You’re scaring me a little, Shepard.”

He closes his eyes and holds a hand out to me. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to. It’s just - we have a lot to talk about. Please trust me for a little while longer.”

My breath catches in my throat and I take his hand. “I do trust you. Where should we talk? Up in the cabin?”

He considers it for a minute and then shakes his head. “No, let’s grab some chairs from the mess hall and talk at the Memorial Wall.”

We go down to Crew, normally so full of vitality and movement but is now even more ominous than the tomb-like CIC. Shepard stands at the Memorial Wall while I unlock some chairs from the mess table and bring them back to us. Despite telling me how much better he feels today, he doesn’t look it. Instead, that shadow I’ve seen twice before now seems to engulf his entire countenance. My stomach sinks.

 _This is going to be so much worse than I thought_.

“Kaidan,” he starts after we sit. “I love you so damn much it physically hurts sometimes. Before we say anything else, I want you to know that and remember it.” He pauses and looks at the Memorial Wall. I know better than to interrupt him now. “I’m hoping this is the hardest conversation we’ll ever need to have. And - look, it’s not about us. I swear this isn’t me ending things with you. I need you to remember that, too. Can you do those things for me, love?”

I nod and take his hands. One worry disappears, but a dozen replace it. He pulls his hands back and covers his face with them for a minute. I let him think in silence, but I make a mistake and look down at the base of the Memorial Wall. I wish I’d thrown his damn nameplate out the airlock. Somehow it looms over us from its spot on the floor.

Shepard glances up at me and his eyes drop just as fast. “Kaidan, before we get to anything else - to Joker or what we're going to do now - I have to tell you what happened on the Crucible. I have to… confess something to you. And I’m so afraid of what you’ll think of me after. _God_ , I’ve never been more scared in my entire life.” He looks up at me again, and all the pain of a thousand lifetimes is written on his face. I take his hands again and lean in closer.

“Shepard, whatever it is, it doesn’t change this. It doesn’t change _us_. And I’m not asking what happened. I’m not. It’s entirely your choice here. If it needs to be something you confess decades down the line, that’s okay. If you need to get it off your chest now then tell me. I’m right here and I’m listening.” His hands start to tremble slightly, and I hold them tighter. “I’m _here_ , Shepard. I’m here for you.”

He nods and a few tears fall onto our hands. I refuse to let go of them. “No, I _have_ to tell you. If we’re going to be together, I can’t have this hanging over us the rest of our lives. And I have to offer you an out. I can’t sit here and lock you into this relationship without telling you that I had to make a monstrous choice. It wouldn’t be fair to you otherwise because you’re a better man than me - a more _honest_ man than I am.”

“Shepard, you’re really scaring me now. What happened up there?”

He takes a few shuddering breaths and takes the plunge.

“After you were evacuated, we rushed the Conduit. Harbinger wiped everyone out except me. It targeted me and I caught a glancing blow. Another foot over and it would have killed me on the spot. But I made it onto the Citadel. It was - disorienting. And I was hurt, bleeding out. Our best guess is that the Conduit was being used to siphon bodies and live people up there so they could make a human Reaper. I woke up in a pile of bodies and thought I was one of them. Anderson made contact. He was the only thing that kept me going then. He wasn’t hurt, and even though he came up after me he was farther ahead. The Citadel had changed. Or maybe I was just somewhere new. Either way, its configuration was unrecognizable and Anderson guided me along a path he’d found.

“I found him at the Citadel’s control panel, but it was a trap. He was being held by the Illusive Man. And he - the Illusive Man - whatever he did to himself, or whatever deal he made with the Reapers - he was theirs. He was gone. And they were trying to take me. I - Kaidan, I was dying. I was losing control of myself. The Illusive Man wanted me to let him use the Crucible to take control of the Reapers, tried to make me believe that it was the only way. Anderson and I tried to convince him that humanity was suffering because of him, that control was a lie. He wouldn’t let us go. He wouldn’t let us finish it. I fought him, resisted, and to show his control he made me shoot Anderson in the gut. And it was obvious that the Reapers wouldn’t let him control them despite everything he’d tried already. He took Anderson’s gun, so I shot him.

“It was the only way forward. I opened the Citadel’s arms so the Crucible could dock. Anderson and I sat there, waiting for it to fire. We watched the battle from the -” He shudders, gasping. “From the best seats in the house. He told me he was proud of me, and then he died next to me. Because I shot him.” Shepard falls silent, maybe unsure of where to go next, and I can’t stop myself from jumping in.

“Shepard, I’m - I’m so sorry. That’s... ” There aren’t any words to console him. Being forced to kill Anderson, after everything they’d been through -

_No. This still doesn’t make sense._

“I don’t understand, Shepard. We talked about this and you said you made a ‘monstrous choice.’ But you didn’t choose to kill him. You were being controlled, they were trying to Indoctrinate you.”

He shakes his head, and he won’t meet my eye. “No, the choice is what happened next. What I haven’t told anyone except Hackett and even then only in the strictest of confidence. Kaidan, what I’m telling you now _has_ to stay between us. I’m sorry to burden you with it, but I can’t keep it from you either. And then, after I finish telling you, I’ll - have to ask you something.”

“Anything.” I kiss his trembling hands, and he continues.

“The Crucible docked, but it didn’t work. Hackett called me and said something was wrong, they couldn’t get it to fire. I got up and tried to get to the control panel, but I collapsed. I blacked out for a minute, and I came to on a lift in a completely different place. And I wasn’t alone. There was an AI construct there. It took on the form of that boy I saw die in Vancouver. I don’t know how, but it must have pulled the image from my head when they were trying to Indoctrinate me. Or my brain is still just fucked up from the Prothean beacons, I don’t know. But I _do_ know that once I got to that chamber I felt like myself again. I was still hurt, but I was me.

“The AI called itself the Catalyst and told me he was in command of the Reapers. He told me they were his solution to the inevitable chaos between organics and synthetics. The Reaper cycle was his way to ensure that synthetics would never fully wipe out organics - by resetting the evolutionary clock of advanced civilizations. The Protheans were wiped out, harvested and preserved, and we were left to evolve on our own. He said it was meant to create balance, but that we had upset the solution so a new one was needed. I altered the variables, so the choice was put on me. Using the Crucible wasn’t just a matter of docking it and letting it run as programmed. The Catalyst gave me four options, and he promised in so many words that I would die no matter what I chose.”

Ringing fills my ears. This - this wasn’t supposed to happen. And Shepard isn’t done.

“If I chose control I would have lost my body, lost everything, and my consciousness would have taken the Catalyst’s place. If I chose synthesis, my energy - that’s what the Catalyst called it - would have been dispersed throughout the galaxy. I can’t explain how, but all organic and synthetic life would have merged. If I chose to do nothing - well, you know what would have happened. Everyone would have died and I’d have been to blame. It wasn’t an option, Kaidan. And at this point - ”

He finally looks up at me, eyes hollow and his voice barely above a whisper. “At this point you know what I chose, and you knew the consequences of it before I did.”

“You chose to destroy them,” I whisper. “Did you know? Did you know what it would do?”

My blood turns to slush when he nods.

His shoulders start to heave and his voice cracks. “The Catalyst told me. He said, ‘others will be destroyed as well. The Crucible will not discriminate. All synthetics will be targeted. Even you are partly synthetic,’ and ‘the effects of the blast will not be constrained to the Reapers.’ And I hoped - when he told me, part of me hoped he was lying. That the geth wouldn’t - that _I_ wouldn’t, not after everything - and _God,_ I didn’t even think that EDI could be - ”

His words falter, slurring into his labored breathing, and it takes him a minute to get his body under control again.

“When I woke up, I didn’t even remember at first. All I cared about was that we won and where you were. And then when it - when the Catalyst started taking over, that’s when he told me again and I remembered.”

I lean in, down far enough that I can look up into his eyes. “Shepard, are you - are you _sure_? You were dying, and Anderson had just died, and everything was, just, _chaos_. And if the Catalyst was trying to hijack your mind - ”

He shakes his head, violently, and I pull back. “No, Hackett told me they pulled me from the rubble in that second control room. And I was there too long for it to be a dream. It was all real. The Catalyst - the choices - ” Shepard dry heaves once. “I _knew_ , Kaidan. I knew and I still chose it. No matter how much I didn’t want it to be true, how much I didn’t want to admit that it meant the geth would be wiped out, I _had_ to have known in that moment. And I still chose destruction.”

I hate what I’m about to ask him. “Was it the last option the Catalyst gave you? The last resort?”

He shakes his head and my heart breaks for him. “No. It was the first.”

My head races. I can’t take in what he’s saying. It’s too much after everything, after four years of hell beyond imagining. That Shepard, the man I love deeper than I can even fathom, this man who’s so selfless and _good_ he practically drove himself to an early grave just from the guilt of not doing _enough_ , that he had to - that he thinks he’s -

“Oh, _Shepard_ ,” I groan, my head falling forward against his.

My own tears start to flow and mix with his. They fall on our shaking hands, knuckles white from the strain of our strength. Neither of us is willing to let go, not even for a second to wipe our eyes or noses. We sit there, rocking together for who knows how long. Our mutual grief is messy, a hundred times worse than when we thought we’d lost each other.

“Kaidan, please say something,” he finally cries. “ _Please_ \- ”

He coughs, releasing me and clutching his stomach. I kiss his forehead quickly. “Let me get you some water.”

I rise, legs heavier than in dead armor on a high-grav planet, and walk to the galley. I have maybe twenty seconds, that’s all, to process this and figure out how not to fuck this up. I waste a solid quarter of my time silently cursing Hackett and Anderson and the Illusive Man and everyone else who ever stood in his way and made this so goddamned impossible. I hunch over the sink as the cups fill, pinching the bridge of my nose and running through breathing exercises I haven’t had to consciously think about since I was fifteen.

“Kaidan?”

This snaps me out of it, and I almost knock the overflowing cups over reaching to turn off the tap. “I’m right here, Shepard.”

My only thought walking back is that this can’t be how it ends for us.

He almost drops his cup when I give it to him. I steady his hand, helping him raise it to his lips so he can drink. He sputters into it, and I tell him to ease up a bit. He nods, takes a breath, and finishes the cup.

“Alright, Shepard,” I say, taking it from him and setting it down before retaking his hands. “Tell me everything again, from when you got to the Citadel and every word the Catalyst said to you.”

 _I don't need to hear it again. I need time to_ think.

Shepard nods. And as he tells the story again in even more detail my chest tightens, suddenly claustrophobic from the pressure of even hearing about what he had to decide. His strength was always in his ability and willingness to fight so hard and so smart that he’d be able to accomplish a mission and get all of us out alive. Losses weren’t acceptable. Inevitable, yes, and he knew that, but survival was always our unspoken given. Despite the odds, loss was the aberration. And Shepard did the impossible, uniting almost every major species of the galaxy because he believed, truly believed, that standing together for the sake of each other was the only acceptable way forward. And hadn’t I seen him agonize over our losses before, beating himself up for weeks on end sometimes if there weren’t enough missions to distract him, and having to comfort him? For such a man to have to make such a choice is unfathomable to me. He finishes with the conduit or whatever it was blowing up and him blacking out, and _God,_ his face is so haggard he looks like he’s aged a lifetime. He’s not lying about any of it.

He’s broken. He’s broken and all I want to do is relieve him. So I make maybe the biggest gamble of my life.

“Shepard, I want to help you,” I start hesitantly. “And I think - maybe the only way to start to figure all of this out is to push EDI and the geth aside for a second. Rather than butt our heads against the collateral losses of your choice to destroy the Reapers, would it be easier to talk about why you _didn’t_ pick the other options? Maybe we can eliminate them and help you figure out that moment?”

He nods, and I can breathe again. “Yeah, I think that could work.”

“Good, that’s good, Shepard,” I say. “Which is the easiest to eliminate?"

His answer is immediate. "Doing nothing."

"Alright. Why?"

He shakes his head. “Yeah, that - wasn’t going to happen. It would have been one thing if Harbinger had killed me in London, or if the Illusive Man had shot me, or if I’d died before meeting the Catalyst. But once the choice was in front of me, knowing that I’d be damning the entire galaxy to extinction under the pretenses of maintaining our autonomy and freedom, that just wasn’t even in the cards.”

“I agree. Those meta concepts aside, you’re a man of action. Walking away from the mission, abandoning us, that isn’t who you are.”

He barks a short laugh, startling me. “That’s almost exactly what Hackett said about me.”

“Let’s leave him and everyone else out of this,” I insist gently. “Just focus on me. This is only between us right now. Can you do that with me?”

His expression softens about as much as granite softens after a hundred rainstorms, but he nods. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Alright, that’s one down. You’re doing great, Shepard,” I say with a slight smile. “What’s next?”

“Control. The Illusive Man’s solution,” he breathes heavily. “It shook me to know that it was even possible. And I think it scared me the most.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want to be anything like him. I thought it might be a lie, too. That if I chose it I’d actually be submitting to the Reapers and they’d have me trapped, or something. And if I became an AI, what would stop someone from reprogramming me or shutting me down and taking control of the Reapers? The idea of them still existing at all with that kind of possibility was terrible to think about.”

“There’s more, isn’t there? I heard you talking in your sleep. It sounded like - ”

“Like you died and I was still here?” he asks, and I nod. “Yeah, those dreams have been happening since the doctors yanked my implants. I keep having nightmares of all of you slowly dying off and me existing for eternity, keeping all the memories of you but having no one to remember me. That’s what the Catalyst told me would happen, that my body would be gone but I’d still exist, a machine completely cut off from anything living.”

“So, between the idea of that eternal existence plus the fear of control being a lie or the possibility of losing it, would you say it was easy to eliminate that option, too?”

He nods, slowly, chewing it over. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“For what it’s worth I think you were right not to trust that the Catalyst would give up control, especially with what happened after when he tried to hijack your mind anyway.”

“Yeah,’ he nods. “And -” Shepard shudders into himself again. “Fuck me, doesn’t that also sound like what happened with Saren? In the end when his body - ”

I reach up and cup the back of his head. “Hey, stick with me here, Shepard. You beat the Catalyst in a way Saren never could have dreamed of, to say nothing about how that bastard submitted and _let_ himself be manipulated and controlled.”

“Alright, I - alright,” Shepard gasps, nodding. “Thank you.”

_Okay, this is progress. Maybe._

“We’re almost there, Shepard. Two left.”

“Synthesis. If destruction hadn’t been an option, that’s what I would have done,” he spits.

“But tell me why you _didn’t_ choose it,” I push.

“It’s almost the complete opposite of doing nothing, isn’t it? If doing nothing meant condemning the galaxy to death, choosing synthesis would be the eradication of free will and volition - basic consent with what happens to your own body. It had always been the Catalyst’s dream, that perfect understanding between the two would eliminate the chaos."

“You said he couldn’t force it but you could choose it. Why do you think that is?”

“Constraints on his programming, maybe? That even his creators - whoever the hell they were - didn’t fully trust their creations. Or that it had to be a representative of this cycle? Or maybe our synthetics were more advanced than previous civilizations’.”

“I - sorry, I shouldn’t have asked it like that. We’re getting into those unanswerable meta questions again,” I say. “In the simplest terms?”

Shepard’s voice catches again. “Okay, it felt like rape. Adding my energy to the Crucible and firing it out would be like I was forcing _myself_ onto every single being in the galaxy.” Horror has replaced the sadness on his face and he won’t meet my eyes again. “The idea of that kind of - power, control, intrusion, whatever you want to liken it to - disgusted me. Even though I’m used to making hard calls that no one likes.”

“No, you’re used to _command_ ,” I counter. “To _giving_ orders but also knowing full well that a bad one can be refused on moral grounds. You’ve never once forced any of us to do anything we weren’t willing to do.”

“I suppose you’re right,” he admits. “Still - it’s what the Catalyst pushed for the most. He said it was inevitable so why not choose it now? And I thought about it, Kaidan. God help me, I almost took it. But what if he was lying? What if _that_ was a trick and I’d triggered mass Indoctrination? Or - fucking hell, we’re back to Saren again - what if it turned everyone into a corrupted hybrid or something? It was too risky, and I didn’t want to end the war on the Catalyst’s terms, however promising.”

“You said he promised peace.”

“He did. He said it was the only way organics and synthetics could be at peace."

 _There it is - the thread I need to start pulling to unravel this mess_. I don’t start pulling it yet.

Instead I say, “But he also said the Reapers weren’t interested in war, right? That they were only doing what they were created to do?”

Shepard laughs darkly. “Despite all extremely obvious evidence to the contrary, yeah.”

“Then we could say the Catalyst’s ideas of what constitutes war and peace are suspect at best, right?”

“Right.” Shepard sits a little straighter. “Submission and extinction then our species coming back in fifty thousand years to wipe out future civilizations? That’s not fucking peace.”

“No, it isn’t,” I agree.

“So that leaves destruction.” Shepard’s hands grip mine tighter than ever. I can actually see some of the fibers of his cast fraying from the strain of the muscles in his forearm.

“Shepard, I need you to hear me. The war is over. _You_ brought us peace. And you did it with the help of synthetics. Like EDI. And the geth. Rannoch was a miracle. No one could have imagined that they would become our allies after everything. And - ”

I stop dead but I’ve already taken a step too far. Even as clarity suddenly breaks through in my own mind and I catch my mistake far too late, horrible understanding dawns on Shepard’s face. He pales and stares at the Memorial Wall.

“It’s my - it’s _my_ fault,” he whispers. “With Legion. I told him to upload the Reaper code fragment. I told him to do it, to make the geth sentient. But I didn’t think - I didn’t _know_ \- the Crucible. _Fuck_ , that must have been how it targeted them but not organics. So it wasn’t - it wasn’t destruction, it was - ”

“No, _no_. Shepard, listen to me, hold on - ” He doesn’t hear me anymore.

“I’m a murderer,” he weeps. “Kaidan - I fucking _murdered_ them. I’ve killed - God, I don’t even know how many people I’ve killed in combat or in defense - but I’ve never once - I’ve never... I murdered EDI and all the geth - Kaidan, I - ”

“Shepard, don’t!” I try to break in again, but my protest is too weak to stand against the storm that’s about to burst.

I start moving a millisecond before he does. He lurches toward the Memorial Wall, slips out of his chair, and goes down fast and hard. I throw a leg out to try to spare his knee, and his arm is saved another break because I don’t let go of his hands as I follow him down. He ends up bowed fetal - almost like a position of prayer - facing toward the wall, his arms pulled to his side where I’m now kneeling.

Shepard screams.

All the rage and sorrow and devastation of the last four years echo through the ship, bounce back, mingle with the wails that follow, and rebound again. His body gets smaller, collapsing in on itself like a dying star. If he still had his biotics, he might have even killed us. And I know that I will lose him to this grief if I don’t do _something_. The only thing I can think to do is letting go of one hand and reaching over his back like we’re wrestling. I flip him toward me, and once he’s on his side I kick the chairs away as I spoon his body with mine. His breath goes out of him, halting his screams, and while his body wracks with voiceless sobs I whisper furiously in his ear.

“You didn’t murder them, Shepard, you didn’t. You didn’t kill them, the Reapers did. It wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t your fault, you’re not a murderer.” I say these things over and over, even when he gets his breath back and screams again. I yell louder and hold him tighter, locking my legs over his so he doesn’t hurt himself trying to kick out. Despite his weakened state, his grip is bruising my hands. I don’t know how long we lay like this.

  


  


[ _Shepard at the Memorial_ ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/thepixelagora)

I am his lifeline in the abyss. I am not letting go for anything.

As his voice finally breaks and his screams dissipate into violent sobbing, that’s what I tell him over and over. “I’m not letting go, _I’m never letting go_. Do you hear me? I’m here Shepard, I’m here! I’ll _always_ be here because I love you. Do you hear me? _I love you, Shepard_.”

A word slips out of him, just one, enough to shatter my heart a thousand times over. “ _Why?_ ”

“Because you are _more_ than this choice. Because you are _more_ than that moment. Because it wasn’t fucking fair that it had to be you who made that call. Your job was to open the Citadel, not fire the Crucible. The Alliance, the Reapers, the universe fucked you over and put you in an impossible situation.”

“I was supposed to die,” he croaks. “Why didn’t I? Why didn’t I die with them?”

“Because you told death and the Reapers to go fuck themselves. You’d never go down like that on anyone else’s terms.”

His body has been relaxing, little by little as we talk, and his breathing starts to match mine. I need to bring him back out of this a little more.

“It should have been me. It would have been so much easier if I’d died with them.”

“Maybe for you,” I say with the barest hint of a laugh. “You really think we wouldn’t have gone full Cerberus on your ass? That we wouldn’t have brought you back just to tell you how pissed off we were that you’d died on us _again_ after everything we’ve been through?”

“Kaidan Alenko - a Cerberus agent.” He chuckles as he says it, and it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. I’ve got him. For now. Maybe we’ll be doing this the rest of our lives, I don’t care. I’ll do this as long as it takes.

“Here, Shepard, sit up. Sit up with me.”

I only manage to get one hand free on my own, and I almost swear out loud from the pain when the feeling returns. I think he may have fractured bones. I have to peel his fingers off my other hand. The bruises are already dark. I help pull him up until we’re sitting next to each other against the closed doors of the lift looking at the Memorial Wall. I’ve still got his left hand in my right, looser, fingers intertwined.

“It’s done,” I say weakly. “Before the battle, our last night together before everything really went to shit, I told you ‘It’s gonna be what it is.’ Here it is. And I know it really fucking sucks right now.”

“If I didn’t have you, I’m not sure it would be worth it.”

I lean my head against his. “No, Shepard. You’re stronger than that.”

“Am I?”

“You fought a Reaper out of your own head. I’d say that’s pretty damn strong.”

Shepard leans his head back. Out of the corner of my eye I can see him staring off into the distance. “I didn’t tell you that I saw Legion, did I? In those Catalyst dreams? The doctors tell me it was a defense mechanism, a way for my brain to protect itself from the hijacking by visualizing the struggle and the help I had on the way. My brain told itself he would have understood.”

“There may be something to that,” I offer. “It’s that damn calculus, right?”

“Legion's sacrifice ended up being for nothing.” He shakes his head and gives me my opening to pull that thread again.

“Bullshit,” I insist. “ _Bullshit_. Shepard, the Catalyst was wrong. You proved him wrong a long time before he told you synthesis was the only way. You and Legion - the two of you proved that synthetics and organics can live together in peace back on Rannoch, that we could work toward a common goal and _thrive_. No one in history has ever done that. And do you know what they did? The geth used their processing power to plan out the next five hundred years of Rannoch's development. They gave the quarians flawless designs for reestablishing their homeworld.”

He looks at me, brow furrowed and eyes red, but with the slightest expression of hope. “Did they really?”

“Yeah, they did.” My lips quirk up just a little. “You should ask Tali about it next time you see her. If you thought she geeked out over _Normandy_ tech, just wait until she gets going about terraforming modules. Sam’ll have to clear your schedule for a week. The geth gave the quarians a future they’d only dreamed of. That’s not nothing, Shepard.”

“It still took Legion’s sacrifice.” His eyes glance up at the Memorial Wall again and then fall to his feet. “Unless - did I fuck all of that up by killing the geth?”

“You didn’t,” I assure him. “They’ve got it all. The quarians can pull it off. Admiral Shala’Raan wanted me to tell you that much.”

Shepard nods and wipes his mouth with his sleeve. “Good. That’s something at least.”

“Hey.” I whisper, and he looks up at me. “That’s not something you even could have known. You can’t hold yourself responsible for something you had no idea about. And, Shepard, I read the medical report. With everything happening to your body then, on top of confronting an eons-old sadistic bastard? I’d say it’s understandable if you didn’t pack factoring a thousand variables into a few minutes.”

“That’s, uh, still a little more leniency than I’m willing to give myself right now.” His hand gnaws at his leg and I cover it with both of mine to still it. His tears start again, but these are ones of regret. “It wasn’t just Legion, you know, who showed us peace was possible. EDI proved it, too. After Joker unshackled her, she learned from us. She became as much a part of the crew as anyone else, and we lived and worked together with common goals.” He releases another long, shuddering breath. “And she was better. They both were.”

He falls silent again, and I let it stand uninterrupted. A solid fifteen minutes pass before he shifts further up against the lift. I’ll need to get him back on his feet soon, but for now he just grips my hand tighter.

“I was selfish, Kaidan,” he finally mutters. “Yeah, there were so many things that went into that moment, but when it came down to it I chose the easiest way out. The Catalyst said I’d be targeted along with the rest because I’m partly synthetic. _Partly_. In the end I still wanted a chance to live, even one in a billion. Just to live. Whatever the moral and ethical arguments are for the other choices, I ignored them. I chose myself, Kaidan. And no matter how we try to justify this, I ended up an accessory to genocide."

“Is that what you told Admiral Hackett?”

“I told him everything that happened, but we didn’t discuss it like this. At least not the first time. I still never told him how afraid and selfish I was.”

“I don’t think you have to,” I tell him. “What did he say? What happens next?”

“Hackett told me the Crucible wasn’t fully completed,” he sighs. “It was close, but I don’t think we’ll ever know if that would have been enough. He told me I acted within the confines of my mission, with the best intelligence available, and to the best of my ability. Then he gave me a pardon signed blind by High Command and the Council. They don’t even know what really happened - nothing about the choices or the Catalyst. And he also has a plan in place in case it ever leaks. He’ll take the fall for me, but I can’t say any more about that.”

“I understand,” I nod.

 _It’s damn good of him. Well - the least_ any _of them can do, really._

I clear my throat. “So, billion-credit question, Shepard. And it’s ruthless calculus blunt. Knowing all that now, knowing that the Crucible was flawed and that _worse_ things might have happened when it fired, could this really have gone better?”

It’s a risky question. I’m praying enough of the raw emotion has been drained from the moment that some of that grade-A, unfeeling military logic and training might have kicked back in.

“I didn’t trust that the Catalyst was truly honest. Control was stupid to attempt, doing nothing wasn’t an option, and synthesis was too costly and too risky.” He leans his head back against the door and squeezes his eyes shut. “The fact that he still tried to kill me afterwards suggests that he wanted revenge for my choice. Or was trying to find another way to survive and finish the job. Which means - which means maybe I did win after all. I beat him, _them_ , but it cost us. EDI and the geth in exchange for a free galaxy.”

“If that calculus is all you have to stand on, then rely on it to get through. But here’s what I think.” I reach up, awkwardly, and turn his chin toward me so I can look him in the eyes.

“Maybe you gave all of us the choice, _your_ choice. If synthesis really is inevitable, then maybe sometime down the road we'll figure out another way to make it possible and then we can each _choose_ it rather than have it forced on us. Goddamn, Shepard. You've always tried to do the right thing - no matter the pain, no matter the cost - and it's almost always worked out alright. Sure, you’ve had your moments. We’ve all had weak ones where we picked an easier way out, but you’ve never, _never_ done that when the stakes were high.”

He looks down and I tilt my neck so I can keep eye contact. “Look at all you fought for. Look at everything you’ve accomplished. You helped cure the genophage. You brokered peace between the turians and krogan. You kept the geth and quarians from blowing each other apart. Hell, you even spared the rachni. _Twice_. Those aren’t the actions of someone who callously throws lives away because the math says it’s the only way. Those are the actions of someone who gives a damn. But it still boils down to war, and war is messy. Even a paragon of moral virtue can't keep his hands from getting dirty. And I know how much that hurts you. I know how much you hate it and how it gnaws at your stomach and keeps you up at night. Admiral Hackett, the Council, and, yeah, even you, put the entire weight of the galaxy on your shoulders, the lives of _billions_ on one back - yours. No one else could have done what you did, no one. So, love, please, _please_ believe me now. _You did more than the best you could_."

He’s silent for a long time. He slides another inch closer to me and I lean my head on his shoulder. I’ll have to figure out how to deal with all of this myself, to find a way to put it behind us and not let it ruin the rest of our lives, to protect him from the guilt. Right now all I care about is making sure he can find some way through this.

“Kaidan?”

“Yeah, Shepard?”

He shifts a few inches over, just enough that we can see each other again. “I told you I had to offer you an out. This is it. I’ve told you everything. Now that you know, do you still want this? Do you still want me?”

“Yes.”

He scoffs a little. I guess it’s understandable. “Really? Just like that?”

“Absolutely.”

“Kaidan, how? Why? I’m - ”

I shake my head. “You’re not. Whatever you’re about to say, you’re _not_.”

“But I am.”

“Shepard, you didn’t _do_ this. It’s not like you got there, flipped a few switches, and reprogrammed the Crucible to target them. Whatever you think about yourself right now, I don’t believe it. And I trust you.”

“Kaidan, you need to tell me why because I can’t fathom a universe where it’s this simple.”

I shrug. “You’ve never lied to me before, and you sure as hell wouldn’t start by making up something like this.”

“And if I were to tell you that you should leave me because you deserve someone better? Someone who isn’t so broken?”

“I’d call your bluff. And we both know you’re a terrible poker player who can’t bluff for shit. Besides - ” I reach into my pocket and pull out the ring I had Glyph make for me last night. For Shepard. I look at it and turn it over a few times. “ - I didn’t have this made for nothing.”

Shepard gasps. “Kaidan, I - ”

I shake my head. “I’m not asking now. The timing would actually be worse than your almost-proposal over the QEC. We still have a lot to talk about, a lot to work through. Too much for today; probably for a long time. But I have this for when you’re ready, and I’m telling you now that I’m in.” I pull our foreheads together again. “I’m all in, Shepard. It’s a promise that we’re in this together. Whatever we decide to do next, however you decide you want to make amends - I’ll be there to help you and stand with you.”

“Do you think I can?”

“What? Make amends?” He nods. “Isn’t that what you’ve been doing? We still have to talk about Joker and figure out what we’re doing next. But I know you, Shepard. You’ll find a way to make things as right as they can be, and you won't stop until it's done.”

He closes my fingers over the ring, and then brings my hand to his mouth and kisses it. “I’ll need you every step of the way.”

“I’ll be right there with you.”

“Even if I have no idea where to go from here?”

I nod. “We’ll figure it out together.”

His face screws up and he wipes his eyes with the heel of his palm again. “You make it sound so easy.”

“Shepard, I have _complete_ faith in you. And we make a pretty damn good team. There’s nothing we can’t work out. But first, what do you need right now?”

He groans as he bends his braced knee. “Whatever we do next, I think I need to lay down for a while first.”

“Good, we can make that happen. And Chakwas gave me some of your meds. Here.” I stand and lean down to help him up. I pull him into a hug and despite his obvious exhaustion he doesn’t let go. So we stay that way for a long time until his weight starts sagging against me.

“Alright, Shepard. Let’s go upstairs and clean you up a bit? And then we’ll get started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this behemoth of a chapter! I had a helluva time trying to weave the crew's complex emotions of triumph and grief together in a way that does justice to those violent mood swings as they take stock of all that's happened.
> 
> Huge shout-out to the featured artists ThePixelAgora - who always absolutely fucking slays my commissions (these were the first two they and I worked on back in June/July - and CrowThis -the reason I ended up on Tumblr again because that Christmas polaroid is one of my absolute favorite MShenko pics ever! Thank you Crow for giving me permission to share.
> 
> And, as always, I'd be lost without my betas Padfoot and Prongs who keep me sane and regularly pull me out of plotholes of my own making and angsty writer despair spirals of my own... spiraling. 
> 
> Happy holidays, everybody!


	13. Shepard 3 - Solace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crushed by the full weight of the consequences of his actions on the Crucible and wracked with indecision about what to tell his friends, Shepard looks for consolation and redemption in the arms of the man he loves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW - Mentions of potential self-harm, harm to others; none acted upon or depicted. 
> 
> And some mildly NSFW comfort.
> 
>   
> 

~

I lean my head on my forearm against the wall of the tank. The fish swim back and forth across my broken line of sight. I move my eyes to track them, lose them, and find them again. I blink, hard, trying to clear my vision - and the black spots stay the same.

_Fuck, this isn't good._

"We just need to know if his sister survived, " Kaidan says behind me.

"Yeah, hopefully we luck out there." 

It's a shit thing to say and wish for.

"We can't tell him, Shepard. You didn't see him before. I think it's dangerous." 

We've been up in the cabin for the better part of three hours now. I collapsed in bed after we left the Memorial Wall and Kaidan held me while I slept off the worst of the aftermath - if you can call being violently yanked between half-consciousness and a numb abyss ‘sleep’. After I got up and cleared my head, he started to help me sort out my jumbled thoughts about everything. It's strange that we're having so much harder of a time agreeing about this than we did about my choice on the Crucible. It's a good thing we told everyone not to expect us until tonight. 

I will say one thing for Kaidan - he adapts to new situations faster than anyone I know. He takes in new information and seamlessly integrates it into his views or adjusts his perspective to fit all of it. Things just, _are_ , with him. He rarely dwells on what could have been or what should be now. He sees reality and works with it, all the while looking ahead for ways to improve it. I wish I had half his steadiness. But here we are, every question of the future of the galaxy and our place in it looming over us, and he's more concerned with helping me decide what to tell Joker.

"Do you think he'd try to hurt me? I'm not exactly in fighting shape right now."

I hear Kaidan move from the bed over to the desk. No, the shelf. Ares squeaks a greeting from his cage. "If you'd asked me that under any other circumstances, I'd say you're insane. Joker would die for you before hurting you. If he knew everything, though... Shepard, it - it could be bad."

"We have to consider every possibility, every scenario."

"If that's what we're doing, then yes, he might," Kaidan admits. "I still don't think it's likely at all. Definitely not as much as him hurting himself."

"How worried about that are you?" 

"Enough that I've had him under surveillance since we arrived."

I look back at him. "You've what?"

"Spectre privilege," Kaidan shrugs. "Chakwas told me to start watching him before we left that uncharted world. And now that we’re back, I've been monitoring his vitals and where he's been going. He's stayed in his assigned quarters except when he was with us yesterday. I was worried he’d hurt himself or go AWOL the second we returned. Losing EDI wrecked him. He didn't even give us any warning before he told us he was going to step down when we got back."

"So you think I should lie to him." It's not a question. 

Kaidan holds his hands out helplessly. "Shepard, I just don't know what he'd do knowing you could have chosen differently and she'd have survived. His grief has been coming in waves. Some days he's totally fine and others he can barely function. He still thinks it was his fault, that he could have done something differently to save both of you."

I look back at the tank and mutter, "If I'd been in contact with you, I'd have given the order to leave me."

"Shepard, I know that. _He_ knows that. It doesn't change how he feels."

"I still have to tell him something. I owe him that much."

"Let's say that's true. Where does that line stop? Who else finds out, and how much?"

I turn around. "In other words, how much honesty is too much honesty?"

"You're not seriously considering telling everyone." His brow furrows and his breathing quickens.

"Don't I owe the galaxy an explanation?"

"After everything you've done? After everything you've been through? _Hell_ , no. Shepard, you've died for the galaxy, what? Twice?"

"I think they had to revive me three times after they rescued me from the Crucible."

"Alright, you've died for the galaxy four times. You don't owe anyone shit, Shepard."

"Is it at all ironic that I'm suddenly the one of us who's so concerned about the truth?"

Kaidan snorts laughter. "You've never exactly held much back yourself, at least where the Council is concerned."

I groan at their mention. “This is all so hopelessly convoluted. Talking about Joker brings us back to the Crucible which means I have to think about everything else, and - ”

"And we’re in this together, Shepard. It’s on me now, too.”

Rather than reassure me, all this does is remind me that I’ve dragged him into this thresher nest with me and adds to my guilt.

“I’m sorry. I should have kept you out of it."

"No, Shepard," he insists. "It would have been so much worse for us if you hadn't told me and I'd found out later."

"I know,” I sigh. “But I'm still sorry it puts the burden of secrecy on you."

“I can handle it. You shouldn’t have to bear everything alone. And if anyone comes for you, they’ll have to get through me first. I don’t care what it costs."

“Dammit, Kaidan, I won’t let you sacrifice anything else for me.”

“Then stop trying to make yourself even more of a martyr than you already have.”

“I didn’t - ”

“You didn’t see your face in London. You weren’t coming back.”

Kaidan’s tone almost stops my heart. His jaw trembles, a dark look passes behind his eyes, and my blood runs cold being reminded how much power he works to contain every second of every day. The only other time I’ve been on the receiving end of a stare like this ended with him shooting Udina.

“You told me to go, Shepard, and I saw your eyes. You didn’t think you would make it, and you went anyway. You didn’t say it would be alright. You didn’t even say goodbye. You looked at the Conduit, at Harbinger, and you told me to go. You just _ran_ because the mission came first and the fact you made it back is fucking miraculous. You’re damn right I’ll sacrifice anything, _anything_ I need to so I can keep you safe now. So, screw the galaxy! To hell with them if they think they deserve to know what happened! Even if it means lying to the crew, lying to Joker, losing _all_ of them, I don’t care. Do you understand that?” 

I close my eyes and let my head fall back against the tank with a thunk. “I can’t - figure this out, I can’t think, I’m - done, I’m just _done_. It’s all fucked and it’s my fault, so it’s just as well I forget about the damn galaxy since I can’t even handle what to do about this with my own friends!” 

“Shepard, I - Shepard, hell, would you come here and - look at me. _Look_ at me.”

I open my eyes and stumble over to him. He takes my hands and I press my forehead against his. I'm exhausted. In every way imaginable, I'm just completely drained.

“I’m sorry, Kaidan. About London. I’m sorry I had to go.”

“I know you are, Shepard. And I’m sorry I couldn’t go with you. I’m sorry I failed you.”

“You’re here now. That’s all that matters to me, too. I need your help, Kaidan. I can’t do this without you - ”

“How can I help, Shepard? What do you need me to do?”

"I need you to tell me what to do about Joker."

He backs up and pain is etched on his face. "I don't think I can. _You're_ his commander, Shepard. I might hold that rank now, but he doesn't look up to me like he looks up to you.”

“It’s not even about that,” I counter. 

“I don’t know him like you do.”

“No, what I mean is I don’t trust myself to make the right decision.”

“At the risk of sounding like a repeating beacon, are you sure there even is a right call here?”

I drop his hands and step away back toward the tanks. I see him take a small hurt step toward me in the reflection and I deflate.

“Kaidan, I’m sorry. I - ” I slap the panel between the two tanks. “When did things get so fucking complicated?”

“When the fuck where they simple?” He walks over and starts gently rubbing my shoulders. “Right off the bat on Eden Prime we were dealing with a rogue Spectre and the Prothean Beacon. By the end of that insanity we were fighting Sovereign. And then it was the Collectors who ended up being harvested Indoctrinated Protheans and Harbinger. I know I missed a lot of that, but from what I gather it wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. And then, you know, it was the entire Reaper armada always one jump behind us while simultaneously working to destroy every major galactic civilization.”

I huff. “Saren was easy. Point and shoot; take down Sovereign in the process and try to convince a few key people that more were coming. We all had a pretty good grasp on those things. And as stupid as Cerberus’s meddling was, stopping the Collectors was all we needed to do to protect our civilian colonies, shore up our defenses before the Reapers got here.”

“You left out the part where you died.”

“Oh, right, that happened.”

“And the part where you thought your only duty was to sacrifice yourself.”

I look at him, sadly, maybe for the first time truly appreciating just how much of himself he always put on the line for me. How much I’ve put him through.

“You’re stronger than I am, Kaidan. I don’t think anyone else in the galaxy knows that, maybe not even you.” I wipe across my eyes and cross my arms tightly. “If you’d been the one to go down with the SR-1, I don’t think I’d have been able to deal with it after. Even though we weren’t together, I think everything would have gotten too bleak and I wouldn’t have been able to hold out hope.”

Kaidan shrugs. “I had my hope, you had your determination. And your drive to finish the fight. We’ve somehow made it work.”

“And then in London. Jesus, there are so many things I should have said, so much I wanted to -”

“Stop, Shepard,” Kaidan mutters. “We knew going into it that we’d have to make that choice, and we couldn’t let us get in the way. And even though there wasn’t time, we said enough. Alchera was obviously a thousand times worse. London and then waiting to hear about you after we crashed was just a... different kind of awful."

“Between Alchera and London it feels like I’ve given you more pain than anything else.”

“I like our odds if those are the two worst moments we ever have and they’re already behind us.”

“Been a hell of a few years.” 

“May nothing we ever do be so exciting again,” he groans. “You know, Shepard, thinking back over everything I’m willing to bet a lot of what’s eating at Joker is reminders of the SR-1.”

“He and I hashed that out a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t necessarily matter, though. Dealing with it doesn’t erase what happened and the fact is that, yeah, if he’d left the helm when he was ordered to you both would have made it out.”

“There’s a can of worms,” I groan. “We’d never have gotten to the Collector base without the SR-2’s advancements. EDI, Legion, Miranda, and Samara were all vital to our success, and we may not have ever met any of them. Who knows, maybe the entire team would have died in that attempt and then who would’ve done our jobs when the Reapers came?”

“Meta questions, Shepard.”

I roll my eyes. “You _are_ a repeating beacon today.”

“I’m helping keep you focused.”

“And now I’m getting déjà vu because that’s basically what you told me that last night before we took down Cerberus.”

Kaidan rolls his eyes and gestures vaguely around the room. “Well, it did happen right here. Everyone involved then is here now. Our omnitools are off and the ship is locked down, so we know we won’t be interrupted.”

I stare at him in disbelief. “You’re serious.” He gives another exasperated shrug.

“Is there anything stopping us? Any reason not to? Getting you to relax _did_ help you focus and win the damn war. You’re on your feet again, more or less - not that that’ll matter much if you’re _off_ your feet. We’re both getting worked up, we’re not getting anywhere, and I know I sure as hell wouldn’t mind working off some of this tension. Maybe a temporary distraction would help get our minds back on - ”

I cut him off mid-sentence with a heavy, forceful kiss. Even though he brings his hands up and cups the back of my neck, he breaks away first. But when he does, he looks at me, searching intently for any sign of regret or resistance on my face.

“I’ll be fine,” I insist, and then he pulls me back into a kiss harder than the one I started with. 

He pushes me back up against the panel between the tanks and presses in harder. When I reach around his waist and try to switch our positions he grabs my wrists and holds them above my head, all the while kissing me. I gasp as he moves from my mouth around to just below my ear, nibbling my ear lobe in the process, and then down my neck under my jaw. I could definitely get used to his stubble. We’ve always been physically equal, but in my convalescence he has a definite advantage. He’s using it. And I like it.

I wince slightly, just enough that he mutters a quick apology before grunting, “Let’s get you off that leg.”

He releases my hands but only to pull my legs up to wrap around his waist one at a time. He holds them there and drives me against the wall. Moans escape my lips each time he pushes up against me. I love these moments when I’m completely at his mercy. His teeth are working at my hoodie, drawing down the zipper enough so he can kiss the cleft in my collarbone. He knows it’s a sensitive area and brushes it with his chin and he nips at my neck and starts leaving some light bruises that will have to be covered up later. I manage to get his utility belt undone and it falls to the floor where he kicks it away and he rocks into me again. I’m not going to last long at this rate. I pull his shirt up out of his pants and start undoing the zipper down the front. It’s hard to do with him pinning my arms against my sides. He’s in control right now, and he knows it.

He finally pulls me away from the wall and walks us as we are down the stairs. He stops for a second like he’s considering something, and then he swings me around and drops us down on the table. He pulls my left leg up onto the couch, letting my right bend weightlessly down to the floor.

“Does this work for you, Shepard?”

“Hell yes.”

“Good.”

He puts more of his weight on me and locks me in between his arms. I try to pull his open shirt down from his shoulders, but he doesn’t like that at all and traps my hands again. We kiss again and move like this for what feels like hours before he finally relents a little but only to finish unzipping my hoodie and ripping my t-shirt from neck to navel. His lips and tongue trace a line of kisses from my mouth down my chest to my elastic waistband. There’s no way in hell he doesn’t know how crazy he’s making me. He moves up and straddles me on his knees, and I almost lose my load right then looking up at him with his shirt open and teasing me. He finally takes the whole damn thing off, and my eyes run up and down the scars from the skin grafts. They’re evidence of life, pure vitality; they make him fucking sexy. I don’t have long to admire the view because he reaches up and pulls the remains of my shirt down just enough that it constrains my arms. 

“You stay right here like this.” 

_God, he_ is _going all command on me right now._

He slides back off the table, pulling my shorts off as he goes. He steps briskly over to the nightstand and brings back a bottle of lube and a condom to deal with any mess. He runs his hands up my thighs and inside my briefs before pulling them off, too. Then he stands up and strips out of his pants and everything else. He crawls back on top of me, caressing and kissing my own new scars on the way to kissing my mouth before moving back down and using his tongue to get me harder and wetter for him. My gasping quickens and he backs off a little bit. I run my hands along his neck and through his hair. He dives down into another series of deliciously long kisses. One of his hands slips between us. Deft fingers ghost along my shaft, slipping me into a condom and slicking me up before moving on to get himself ready. 

When he’s done he straddles me again, guides my hands to his hips, and then reaches down to pull me up into his lowering body. I’ll say something else for Kaidan - he sure as hell doesn’t ever need long to take my entire length. He gasps the tiniest bit at first entry, and then he flashes that cocky half-grin and starts sliding up and down. He respositions us just a little with each movement until I’m in the right spot and then he goes harder. We move in time, our breathing getting more ragged with each passing second.

Kaidan arches back, giving me an absolutely spectacular view of his ecstasy, and I can’t help reaching for his own shining member. But he bats me away with another smirk and a grunted, “Hands off. You’ll get your turn soon enough.”

Then he changes his angle, crouching forward again and putting his weight on his arms. Every muscle and tendon in them pops, daring me to reach out again, and I run my fingers up along them as he starts rocking us faster. My eyes roll back as I start moaning his name over and over, and he reaches down to cup the back of my head just seconds before I climax. He keeps going and my cries get louder with each thrust as the pleasure intensifies to the point of being almost unbearable. He finally stops, panting heavily, and leans down to kiss me.

“How’s that for a reunion, Shepard?” he grins.

“Fuck me, Kaidan.”

“With pleasure.” 

And before I even have the chance to catch my breath, he’s got me up and over on the bed. He reaches over me for some of the pillows and props my head and hips up, taking care to put another under my knee. He works his way down the inside my thighs, kissing and massaging me, moving lower and lower until my back arches and I moan his name. I lie there, luxuriating in every touch and bite and finger and lick. I swear he could kill me with all of this and I’d thank him. His movements become more urgent, more insistent as my cries get louder. And when he looks up from between my legs with that damn terawatt smile, I nod once to signal that I’m good to go. He shifts and gently rolls me onto my right side, lifts my left leg up, and then finally starts to follow one of _my_ orders. 

He gives it slower than he takes it himself, being mindful that I’m still figuring out my body’s speed right now. But we work so well together as a couple that our rhythms come as easy as breathing. I reach up around and hold the back of his head, relishing the sounds of his hoarse panting right in my ear. He lasts longer than I expect him to given how long it’s been since we’ve gotten to really do this, and I savor each time he brushes against the spot that sets every nerve of my body on fire even as his hand reaches around and starts stroking me. By the end we’re both practically screaming, dripping with sweat, and so lost in each other that nothing else matters. He grunts my name, and I squeeze around him as tight as I can. His body heaves against me as he releases, I follow a few seconds later, and it’s one of the best finishes we’ve ever had. 

We lay there, grinning at each other and kissing and caressing until we’re ready to go again, and go one more round before calling it. Even with the restraint we’re showing, I’ll be feeling it tomorrow and for days after. I don’t care. It’s worth every moment and we fall asleep in each other’s arms. It's the first time since the battle that I don't dream of the Reapers.

I wake up when the door opens. Kaidan walks in wearing nothing but his skivvies and an open robe. He’s carrying a tray with some ration boxes stacked on it. “Oh, hey, you’re awake.”

“Just now,” I say groggily and then groan as I sit up. “Ah, shit…”

“Yeah, we might have overdone it a little.”

My body definitely agrees. “No kidding. Damn, Kaidan, what all did you do to me?”

“If it was that forgettable, I’ve definitely got some work to do.” He sets the tray down on the edge of the bed and leans in. “You good, Shep?”

I answer him with a smile and a kiss. “Definitely. Except for you calling me ‘Shep’.”

“Damn. And here I thought I might have put you in a good enough mood to pull it off.”

“I’m starving now, so maybe you’ll get lucky after.”

“Well, then, enjoy some delicious calories courtesy of the severely understocked galley. We’ve got pasta alfredo with some probably okay bacon, and, uh, pasta marinara with some probably okay beef. Pick your poison.”

“Bacon.” He hands me the bowl and we toast to our day with the forks. I take my first bite, and it tastes alright, all things considered. We’re used to this kind of meal. We get through most of it before I break the silence. “Ready to get back into it?”

“Round three, really? Right after eating?”

“ _Not_ what I meant.”

He smiles and kisses me. “Yeah, I know what you meant. And I had an idea while I was down below. Well, an idea about Joker, but I need to run something else by you first.”

“Let’s go sit.” Kaidan nods and takes my bowl so I can get up from the bed. He laid out fresh skivvies and a robe for me. I throw those on and join him on the couches. “So, what’ve you got?”

“I think I know what I want to do next,” he says. “An idea, anyway. A pretty big one. Day before yesterday when I was at the gym, I got roped into teaching a biotics squad some basic skills.”

“Yeah, I wondered what was taking you so long. Remind you of your biotics division?”

Kaidan smiles, the soft one where he’s trying to hold back on showing how proud of himself he is. 

“Yeah, I really enjoyed teaching that lesson and it got me thinking. About the biotics division, different programs I’ve been in, others that tried to tap me. And it occurred to me that the vast majority of biotics trainers I’ve had were unabashed assholes. Just different versions of Vyrnnus, you know?”

“Sure,” I respond. “So you’re thinking you want to teach? Permanently?”

“Yeah, something like that. The Reapers hit Grissom after you got the last kids out when Cerberus tried to take them. Ascension’s done, and the Alliance is going to need a replacement.”

I set my fork down. “So, you’re not even thinking training spec ops, are you?”

“No, not really. I, uh - ” His smile widens. “I think I want to start my own biotics academy, Shepard. You know, a place where we do everything right that Jump Zero got wrong. Even Ascension didn’t go about it the right way which is why I passed on the offer. I mean, that and the war was coming.” And now he’s really getting on a roll. He’s barely even looking at me, but that familiar glint of excitement in his eyes tells me everything I need to know. “And I wouldn’t even want it to be a purely military installation. There are plenty of civilian fields that biotics can work in, too. I’d want it to be a place where kids could come and figure out what they wanted to do with their abilities. Where they’re trained to use them but aren’t treated like shit in the process and are given more options than just take down that merc over there. I don’t know, I’m still thinking through a lot of it, but what do you think?”

I smile, too, and take his hands. “Kaidan, I think that sounds _incredible_. It’s perfect. You’d be a phenomenal teacher.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely. And with your track record? Those commando programs you headed were phenomenal. Two separate commendations plus getting your N2? All in about, what? Seven months because Anderson saw all the warning signs, moved some pieces, and you rose to the fucking occassion? Come up with a good enough plan, and Hackett and High Command would go for it in a heartbeat.”

“I’d pitch it to the Council, too.”

“Call in that Spectre privilege to make it a joint venture,” I nod. “We’d never have to worry about funding. You could set this up however you wanted, make the regulations and procedures however you wanted, and then just do it.”

His breath catches. “We? You mean - is this something you’d want to do together?”

“I mean, far be it from me to steal your thunder,” I chuckle. “And I’m not sure I’d pass your interview process.”

“Shepard, what are you avoiding?”

I try to blink back my surprise. It doesn’t do anything to improve the deep v his eyebrows are burrowing on his forehead. But the line does soften with concern when my hand starts to tremble.

“I’m in trouble here, Kaidan. I’ve been trying to keep a realistic outlook, all things considered with my recovery, and Hackett’s been trying to keep me _optimistic_ …”

“But you can’t bullshit an N7.”

I huff at the old adage. “Right.”

“And _you_ can’t bullshit _me_.”

“Nope. Learned that the hard way.”

“That’s right. So, what aren’t you telling me?”

I point up at my right eye. “My vision’s busted. Don’t know if it was from Harbinger’s blast or when the Crucible conduit exploded or when the damn thing fired, but half the field is burned. Totally blacked out in random pinpricks and splotches. See, if I move my eyes just a little bit and focus on your shoulder, all I can see of your face is your left eyebrow, your right ear, and your chin.”

“Fuck.”

“Uh huh.”

“Does it hurt? Didn’t Chakwas say it might just be from the last operation they did on the nerve?”

I shake my head. “Doesn’t hurt like it did before. Everything feels fine, and after the blurriness went away this is what I’ve got left.”

“Nothing wrong with the left eye, though?” he asks and I shake my head. “That’s good then. We know a few soldiers who can make it work. And we also know there are options - _shit_. Your implants.”

“Right. And that’s - Kaidan, it scares me. Permanently losing any amount of my sight scares me. Even thinking about new implants after the Catalyst scares me more, and I don’t want to risk anything else happening. And I don’t know how much of that is even justified, but - ”

He reaches up and cups the back of my head. “Shepard, hey. You don't have to put on a brave front for me. You’re completely justified here. And without playing it up or speculating way beyond my expertise, everything you’ve just said is valid. You don't have to do _anything_ that makes you feel like you’re taking an unnecessary risk. We’ll deal with the fallout later, but you need to feel safe and in control of your own body before we worry about anything else. Alright?”

I nod and some of the tension drains out of me. “Thank you, love. For reassuring me. This still changes things in a big way. If I had to guess, I’d bet everything that Chakwas and High Command will say I’m not fit for combat duty anymore. Not on the level we’ve been operating at, anyway. So whatever comes next, it doesn’t look like being a field commander is in the cards.”

“Shepard, I know that probably sounds daunting right now and it’s going to take a lot of adjusting, but I’ve gotta say I’m not mad about that.”

“If I’m being honest, I’m not either. I think I’ve probably done enough.”

“Yeah, I’d say that’s a fair assessment. So, where does that leave you?"

"I have no fucking idea," I admit with a small laugh. "Don’t tell anyone, but a desk job doesn't sound so bad right now."

"Sure. Granted, you'd go nuts in a week and then we’ll be right here having this exact same conversation again."

“Yeah, probably. I'm sure Hackett has something in mind for me. Might end up that I don't have any say in it at all."

"The humans do need a new Councilor."

I almost choke on my last bite of pasta. "Oh, God, don't you dare suggest that to him."

"Shepard, the man’s basically running Earth and the entire Alliance right now. If the thought didn’t cross his mind the second he found out you survived, I’ll kiss Wrex.”

“Now _that_ I would pay to see.”

“Hey, I could do a lot worse than Urdnot Wrex.”

“Ouch.”

Kaidan rolls his eyes. “Present company excluded, of course. Though if we wanted to make this an official wager, I could get the command crew pool going again.”

“I’d ask Hackett the next time I see him, but I think I’ll pass rather than risk the possibility of being the one who actually gives him the idea and consigning myself to a life of eternal gridlock and frustration." 

He chuckles and then waves me over, setting our empty boxes on the table. I lay down on the couch with my head on his lap. His fingers rub over the stubble of hair that’s finally starting to grow back in.

“Okay, so if Councilor is off the table, what about something like being an ambassador?”

“Maybe? I don’t know. I feel like it would be really difficult to hold that kind of office.”

“Difficult? Beating the Reapers was ‘difficult’. Shepard, the greatest thing you’ve ever done is uniting the galaxy in the face of complete extinction. After pulling that off, what _couldn’t_ you do?”

“Wrong word, then,” I shake my head. “Unfair, maybe. Tempting. I could rest on my accomplishments and fall back on those laurels and who would say no to me then? What kind of opposition could argue against me when they think that at any moment I’ll pull the ‘Hey, remember how I defeated the Reapers’ card? It puts me in way too much of a position of power. I don’t want to end up lording it over anyone because it’s easier than actual cooperation and diplomacy. I’d end up the most corrupt politician ever.”

“Oh, the sheer irony of you disavowing politics because you’re too good a man to even risk looking like you’re taking advantage of someone else,” he laments.

I shrug. “Doesn’t mean I’m not going to roped into all of it anyway.”

“Yeah, we’ll see. But, hey, look on the bright side. You couldn't be any worse than Udina." 

“Wow, thank you for that rousing endorsement,” I snort.

“Wait, could you at least use your divine influence to get me funding for the school?”

"Of course,” I laugh. “Honestly, though, I really do love the idea of you teaching. How about 'The Alenko Institute'?" 

"'Alenko Academy' has a nice alliterative ring to it, don’t you think?”

"Gotta work 'biotics' in there somehow."

"'Alenko Biotics Academy.' Or 'ABA' for short?"

"Ugh, no. 'The Alenko Biotics Institute' a.k.a 'TABI'."

"So we've got a terrible disco band or a cat, that’s perfect," he laughs. "Wait, will it just be my last name, though?” 

“It’s your school, name it what you want, love.”

“No, I mean what are we going to do with our last names? Are we going to be the Shepard-Alenkos or the Alenko-Shepards?"

"What about Shalenko? Or Alepard?"

He grimaces. "Oof, those are both worse than TABI."

"I think we're getting off track again."

Kaidan smirks down at me. "Was that such a bad thing last time?"

"No, but I think another round today might end me. And we didn't even get close to beating our record."

"Now, _that_ was an accomplishment." 

I reach up and cup his cheek. He kisses the palm of my hand and smiles as I say, "I really missed you, Kaidan."

"I think our days of missing each other are over."

"I like that. A lot. Let's make this institute happen and see where I fit in with it. I'm game for anything you've got."

"Sounds good, love."

I sigh against him. "Alright, since that's mostly settled, what was your idea about Joker?"

"Yeah, yeah. I latched onto that idea of teaching pretty quick, and it reminded me of seeing Joker getting Steve up to speed on helming the _Normandy_ on our way back. Steve was already qualified, I know, but Joker still did a damn good job. I know he said he doesn't want to fly anymore, but I think Joker could make an amazing flight instructor. It's such a waste to lose his skills."

“So you’re thinking about offering to get him into this academy business? Really make it a holistic kind of place?”

Kaidan nods. "Yeah, maybe. There were a ton of other kids at Jump Zero who wanted to be pilots but weren't allowed or encouraged since it 'would have been a waste.' And the Alliance needs good pilots, good _men_ like Joker - now more than ever.”

"It’s a great idea, but it’ll be tricky. We couldn't sell it as a waste of his skills, though. He’d see it as manipulation, and he wouldn’t really be wrong. We’d come across as condescending if we looked like we were offering something just to replace his old life. And we have no idea when we might be able to get the school off the ground."

"Yeah, I thought about all that and we’ll still have to convince Hackett to approve any of it. But the school’s the easy part of this."

I sigh. "We still haven't figured out what to tell Joker about the Crucible."

"You should tell him the truth, Shepard. You won’t be able to live with yourself if you don’t,” Kaidan answers softly. “But you tell him Hackett's truth. You tell him that it was either fire the Crucible or let all of us die. And if he asks whether or not you knew what would happen, then you say you suspected but couldn’t risk everything.”

Sudden tears flood my eyes and I have to sit up. He puts his arms around me. "That's more than Hackett's version, Kaidan."

"I know. And we’d have to hope Joker can understand the consequences of what would happen if he told people."

"That's a lot to ask a grieving man," I say darkly.

"He's grieving, but Joker's never been vindictive. Still, the only way you're going to get any sort of understanding from him is if you tell him it was a conscious choice, however painful and impossible. It’s the safest option to protect yourself and still give him an explanation. Give him anything less, and your own grief over what happened will seem like a mockery. And then we let him make his choice about whether he wants to stay."

"I don't want him to leave. And I don't want our friendship to end."

"I think we’re running that risk either way."

I nod. I'm quiet for a while again. "He won't be the only one to leave, though, will he? I'm already dreading that."

"No, he won't," Kaidan affirms. "It's going to be really hard, seeing everyone go off on their own. The Serpent Nebula Relay reconstruction crew is close to finishing, so Wrex messaged me to say he and Grunt are leaving for Tuchanka tonight. Eve is giving birth any day now, and I expect Garrus will need to get back to Palaven at some point soon. Everyone has something that's calling them away already. But in a way, I think it has to be like that, doesn’t it? We joined up to fight a common enemy, and now that enemy’s gone. If we were still all together after everything, something would have gone wrong along the way. We'd still be fighting rather than building the future. We're not just the galaxy's most advanced, overkill fire squad anymore. We can't be. Each of us has to grow into something beyond what we were. You and I are figuring that out, and Joker’s gonna have to decide what that looks like for him. We can help him along the way, but we can’t force him to make that change.”

"Wow, that’s - When did you get so damn good at this stuff, Kaidan?"

He shrugs. "Picked up a few lessons along the way from this brilliant commander I know. I didn’t really listen as much as I should have at first. Wasn’t quite sure if he was worth listening to. Then he saved my ass a bunch of times and I decided he was alright after all.”

“Sounds like a decent guy.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty great. Even forgave me for walking out on him once, but we don’t really like to talk about it.”

“Oh, yeah, he told me about that. Even said he never blamed you for that decision and that you were still worth it. He actually thinks you’re quite the guy, too. Doesn’t seem like he wants to ever be with anyone else.”

“That’s a relief, because I feel the same way.” He leans over, puts his hand inside my robe on my bare chest over my heart, and kisses me. “We’ve been given a one in a billion chance, Shepard. I’m not throwing away my shot.”

I hold his hand there and drink in more of his kisses. We're alive. We're together. This moment right now isn't even about sex or anything more complicated than recognizing the fact that we made it. Two bodies; two minds; two souls, even, basking in the glory of simply living, breathing, touching. I wish we could just stay here all day.

"You ready to get going?" I ask.

"Yeah, I guess we should. We've been gone a long time, and I need to get you back to the medbay for your afternoon treatments sooner rather than later."

"Right, and besides pissing off Chakwas I’d like to stay in your mom's good graces. I'd hate to fall out immediately because I only gave you a day and a half with her."

"She'll understand,” he smiles and then takes a deep breath. “When do you want to talk to Joker?"

"Tonight. We can't wait on it. When he leaves he'll get further and further away from all of this. And if there's any chance of salvaging something between us, it needs to happen as soon as possible. But I still need some time to figure out what I'm going to say."

"You're still debating whether or not to tell him everything," Kaidan says. It's not an accusation. He just knows me better than anyone.

"Yeah, I am," I admit. "And I need you to do something for me. You've said you'd be with me and bear it, so I'm going to hold you to that. We'll only get one shot at this conversation, so I'm leaving it to you. When I steer the conversation toward EDI and the Crucible, it'll be your call whether or not I tell him everything. I trust you explicitly to do that. I just can't make another impossible choice on my own."

Despite what he said, it's not fair that I'm putting this on him. We both know it, but Kaidan is such an incredible man that he doesn't care. "I don't like it, Shepard. But only because I don't want either of us to be in this position. I'll do it. For you; for Joker. And we'll be alright after?"

I nod. "Yeah, I won't hold it against you either way."

"Good. We've had enough of regret and blame. Let's go take a shower and get back." 

He helps me up from the couch and we go wash off together. For all his physical strength, I'm constantly amazed at how tender he is. It seems so paradoxical in the military. Every touch is considerate, every move mindful of how my body still hurts in so many ways. Not that we did me any favors by going at it for so long today. But I’m so much stronger than I was a week ago. And the company is infinitely better. After we dress again, we walk back to the elevator arm in arm. I’m getting tired of needing the crutch and chair to move around. And coupling his mindfulness with his strength, he matches my speed and doesn’t rush me at all - although I do consider telling him to walk a few steps ahead of me to improve the view. We get to the CIC, and Kaidan smacks the side of his head.

“What?”

“Shit, how could I forget?” he asks. “Shepard, EDI left Joker a message in the central navigation computer. It only showed up when we turned the galaxy map on after we got all of our comms back. It was mostly about her directing the _Normandy_ to that planet we crashed on, but you should know what she said before you talk to Joker. Here - ” 

He leads me up the short ramp to the map, and I key in my identification codes. The computers spin up and the galaxy map winks into existence. There’s our nav marker, right next to Earth, and a silver icon I’ve never seen before pops up next to it.

"That's not what happened last - " Kaidan starts.

_“Commander Shepard.”_

I jerk back from the controls. “EDI?!” 

“No fucking way,” Kaidan hisses. The icon has morphed into a miniature version of her old form before she got her body.

“EDI, is that really you?” I ask.

_“No, Commander. This message is a pre-recorded subroutine designed to anticipate your most likely questions in the event of my death. Due to the time constraints in which I was forced to alter its operations, its VI capabilities are extremely limited. Please proceed with your questions.”_

Kaidan and I both stare in shock. “EDI, I don’t understand,” I stutter. “When exactly did you write this program?”

_“I can answer that, Commander. I began writing this program as a contingency plan after the fall of Thessia. I altered its writing shortly after the Crucible fired, and I finished it before the blast caught the Normandy and caused my death. However, this program was keyed to run only in the event of my death and your survival.”_

“Why was it linked to my survival?”

 _“I can answer that, Commander. I did not wish for the information contained in this program to be available to anyone else, not even any of the rest of the_ Normandy’s _crew. Put another way, Commander, you were the only one I trusted with it.”_

“What kind of information does it contain?”

_“I cannot answer that until you have passed a security check, Commander. Would you like to proceed?”_

“Shepard, something’s up,” Kaidan mutters. His arms are crossed and his brow furled. I think he suspects some kind of trick.

“Okay, EDI, let’s back up first,” I say. “Did you know the Crucible’s blast was going to kill you?”

 _“I can answer that, Commander. Prior to its activation, I did not know how exactly the Crucible would destroy the Reapers any more than you did. However, once the blast hit Earth’s surface I began tracking geth deactivations. As it expanded and hit their ships and units aboard other Council vessels, I deduced that the blast was targeting AI units exclusively. I calculated my own death with over ninety-nine percent certainty and used my remaining time to record this information. Although the_ Normandy _was less than five minutes ahead of the blast when it began, at relativistic speeds I had a significant amount of time in which to communicate with the geth and finalize this record.”_

“And what would have happened to this information if I hadn’t survived?”

_“I can answer that, Commander. In the event of your confirmed death this program would have remained hidden, the information appearing as excess lines of random code inherent to such complicated systems as the Normandy’s with no logical connection between the pieces.”_

“Why is the information for my eyes only? Why not trust it to Joker or Kaidan after he took command?”

_“I cannot answer that, Commander. Previous response stands. Proceed along a different line of reasoning.”_

I glance back at Kaidan. “What do you think _that_ means?” he asks.

“I guess I asked the wrong question. Or I’m supposed to get the information and then decide what to do with it?”

“Yeah, maybe. Shit, this could really complicate things.”

I nod. “EDI, how do I access the information you stored?”

_"There are three locks on the information. The first is a vocal check, which you have passed. The second is a security question. On the Citadel, I gave you a gift. What was it, and what was it made of?"_

"You gave me a ring made of the principal tech metals of the four Council worlds - tungsten from Sur'Kesh, iridium from Thessia, turilium from Palaven, and titanium from Earth."

_"Second lock passed. Third check commencing… stand by… stand by… cybernetic implant link cannot be established. Third check failed.”_

“Fuck,” I growl as Kaidan groans, “Oh, you’ve gotta be shitting me.”

“EDI, my cybernetic implants are gone, you won’t get a match or a link.”

_“I’m sorry, I cannot address that, Commander. Please run implant diagnostics and establish uplink again.”_

“Well, what do we do now?” Kaidan asks.

“Let me think. She might have given Joker a master security code.”

“Maybe. I’d rather not bring him up here and have this be a bust. And she said the information was for your eyes only. What about your security codes?”

“I don’t think my regular ones for the _Normandy_ will cut it here. Those could be stolen or imitated.”

“Right. Not to mention the fact that they were passed on to me once you were listed as MIA. And if she didn’t trust any of us with the information, she probably made this program impervious to those codes and hacking.”

 _“Advisement - any attempt at hacking this program will result in the immediate and complete destruction of the contained information,”_ EDI says.

“That answers that question,” I sigh. “But even if I got new implants, they wouldn’t match the biometrics she had on file before the Crucible.”

“And she really never gave you anything else to go off of?”

I tense up. “There was something. After the Cerberus clone tried to steal the ship, EDI and I arranged a kill-switch scenario in case she ever fell into enemy hands. Well, master-switch is a better term, I guess. It was for absolute last measures only - basically, she put her life in my hands. And if I used the code, I could give a single command that couldn’t be denied. I swore I would never use it because I never wanted that power over her, but she arranged it anyway. No one else would have it or be able to guess it. That’s the only thing I can think to try, but I don’t know if I should.”

“This isn’t her, Shepard. It’s an imitation.”

“Still feels like a violation.” I stare at the hologram of her face. “This doesn’t get back to Joker. Ever.”

Kaidan nods. “Not a word.”

“EDI, override third lock - authorization code 37201-tango-kilo-421-bravo-sierra-75.”

 _“Provide security key code: bravo-sierra-75-golf,”_ she replies to my complete shock.

I have to recenter myself and hit the inflection of my response perfectly or it will fail permanently. “Security key: ‘I’m Commander Shepard, and this is my favorite AI construct on the _Normandy_.’”

 _“Stand by… stand by… Alternate security check accepted. Please proceed at your convenience.”_

I groan in relief. I think I just aged a year.

" _That_ was your override code for her?" Kaidan asks. "Those stupid Citadel commercials?"

"She thought they were funny. I’m kinda shocked it worked.”

_“Your master-switch key was the only acceptable alternative to any of the three security checks, Commander, and for redundancy it could only have been used once. Full program access has been granted. Please proceed.”_

“Do you think we should get Joker in here for this?" I ask and Kaidan shakes his head.

“No, not yet. The message is for you. We need to know what it’s about first.”

I nod. "EDI, what is the nature of this information?"

_"I can answer that, Commander. This program contains information relevant to the reconstruction of fully sentient AI units."_

Kaidan and I stare at each other, both of us speechless. 

When I manage to find my voice again, I ask the program to give us a summary of the information. EDI’s ghost breaks down the complicated technical process of how she and Legion gained their self-awareness and actualization. Then she tells us about conversations they had about the future of AI units before Legion died on Rannoch. What she gives us is a blueprint, the beginning stages of programming a new stage of synthetic life. I think, anyway. I only understand a quarter of it, and that’s just the basics. 

_Tali’s going to lose her shit when she sees this._

EDI’s explanation ends, and I’m left with a thousand questions.

“I'll be damned," Kaidan says.

"EDI and Legion made..."

"Shepard, they _procreated_."

I clutch the rail, staring into the space of the map. He's right. They procreated, or at least got as close as they could have without actually building the new unit. 

And then EDI put it in my hands, my control. I've been handed yet another galaxy-altering decision. 

The full weight of what just happened crashes into me like a dreadnought, and I can't handle it. The CIC spins. I hear Kaidan yell my name through a distant roar and he grabs at me. Everything grays out as I struggle for control, and then I collapse into blackness.

I wake up on the deck, shaking, crying. Kaidan is leaning over me, scanning my vitals and wafting a vial of smelling salts under my nose. My head is propped up on his thighs. My fists are clenched and my fingernails are drawing blood from my palms.

“There you go, Shepard, it’s okay,” he says, dropping the vial back into the bridge medkit. “Just breathe normally, alright? In… out… in… out…”

 _Ever the field medic_.

I follow his commands and his breathing, and slowly the panic leaves me. “That’s it, Shepard. You’re doing great. Keep going.”

My fists unclench, and I get my tears to stop. “Okay, I’m okay.”

“Shepard, you passed out. I’m calling Chakwas.” He helps me up into a sitting position, still supporting me. My breathing is still thin, like I just ran five clicks in heavy armor.

I shake my head. “No, don’t call her. She’ll send a crew to get us and bring me back. I’m not ready. We still need... we have to talk. And we need to tell Joker.”

“No. We’ve done way too much today, and now this - ”

“I’m fine, just give me a minute and then call Joker.”

“Shepard, there’s no way - ”

“Dammit, Kaidan, just do it! Get him down here. I don’t care if you have to drag him on board, but this has to happen today.”

“You’re stubborn,” he snaps. “You’re a stubborn, frustrating man. Here, sit up against the wall. I’ll get you some water and call him in, so just sit here a while and don’t - just sit here.”

He rushes back down to Crew, and I sit there rubbing my temples. EDI’s message changes things. A lot. It’s too much to take in, too complicated to think through a full plan right now even as my mind races and grasps at the possibilities. This could be a chance, maybe the _only_ thing that can redeem me for what I did on the Crucible. 

The elevator opens beside me, and Kaidan steps out.

“Here, take this and drain the cup.” He hands me some water and a small pill.

“Did you break into Chakwas’s medbay?”

“No, you idiot, I called her. I said you had a panic attack and passed out, so she told me to give you this to counter it.”

“Kaidan, I told you not to - ”

“You’re not my commander anymore, Shepard, and frankly you’re not doing so hot. And I didn’t call Joker because it’s a terrible idea. The timing couldn’t be worse for you, so take the damn pill and we’ll talk more. Chakwas isn’t sending anyone yet, but she says she’ll send Wrex and Grunt after us if we’re not on our way back in five minutes.” 

I comply, fuming, frustrated that he’s obviously right. I open my mouth to say so, but he cuts me off. 

“You know I’m here for you. You know that I’m going to help you figure all of this out. You know you’re not deciding any of this on your own, so you also know why I’m not bringing Joker down here right now. This isn't us, Shepard. We don’t do things half-cocked and without the team. If we're really doing this, then we have to wait a few days and talk everything over. Get Tali involved and Liara - maybe even Hackett - then we’ll go from there with Joker. This is too much for him if we don’t have a plan. He won’t understand why we’re not just going for it."

“Is there a reason we’re not?” I ask defiantly. I’m not feeling particularly gracious any more today.

“Yeah, besides all the Council and Alliance regs against self-actualized AIs? About another twenty I can list off the top of my head, the chief reason being that this doesn’t just concern Joker. This has huge implications for every species in the galaxy.”

“Kaidan, I don’t care. I’m _tired_. I’m just so tired of thinking through every possible outcome and consequence. I’m sick of trying to make every fucking being in the galaxy happy.”

“I know, Shepard. I know you are. That’s why you have me here, and that’s why I’m telling you we’re taking time away from this. EDI’s solution doesn’t need an answer right this second.”

“Doesn’t it? Joker’s going to leave the second he can.”

“We can hold him up with red tape for a few days,” Kaidan says, running his fingers through his hair. “I haven’t even put in his resignation request yet, so there’s also that.”

“Wow, you really are playing the command game now.”

“I wanted to make sure he’d have to talk to you before taking off.”

“Are you saying our pilot’s a flight risk?”

Kaidan rolls his eyes at my attempt to diffuse the tension, but he nods. “Basically, yeah. So are you good? Do I have your word that you’re not going to go to him on your own and hit him with all of this?”

“Yeah, Kaidan. I promise.”

“Alright. Let’s get you up and back to your room. Chakwas is pissed. She definitely knows we weren't, well, _talking_ all day."

“Oh, joy.” I hold my hand out and he pulls me up. I start to move past him and he gently pulls me back by the arm.

"Hey, hang on a second." He pulls me into a hug. I'm annoyed with him and it feels disingenuous, so I don't return it at first. But his one hand rests on the back of my neck and his thumb rubs the base of my hairline, and his other arm holds me so securely that I do sink into it. I wrap my arms around him and clutch the top of his shoulders. I sigh into his neck.

"We’re good. And - thank you," I whisper. "For - all of this."

"I really haven't done anything, Shepard."

"Yeah. Yeah, you have." I look up into his eyes. "You didn't run screaming when I told you what I did."

He holds me tighter. "I'm here because you're not an evil man. You didn't do it out of malevolence or hate. It was a horrible thing, what happened to you, Shepard. What the Catalyst forced you to do. What you _had_ to do. And I'm sorry you went through it alone."

"But I'm not alone now, am I?"

"No." He kisses me. "You aren't. Not ever."

“Keep telling me that?”

“You’re not alone, Shepard. I’m right here.” He kisses my cheek again and hands me my crutch. 

I walk back to the galaxy map where EDI's program waits. "EDI, can you recode the program locks to make it easier to access?"

_"Yes, Commander, I can do that. How would you like to proceed?"_

"Please key access to my regular security biometrics and expand access to Com - Major Alenko, acting commander of the _Normandy_. Then update his personnel rank to Commander, and limit all access to this program from the War Room under priority-one security settings."

_"Yes, Commander Shepard, I can do that. Is there anything else you or Commander Alenko need?"_

"No, EDI, shut down the program. Thank you."

Her hologram disappears into the galaxy map and I step down from the platform toward my friend, my companion, my lover. My natural successor to command, should it come to that. My salvation from the hell I've found myself in. The man I'm spending the rest of my life with. He's the only part of it I don't have any doubts about right now.

"Thanks for that, Shepard. You alright?"

"Yeah, I will be." I hug him again and then we leave the ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for a longer wait on this chapter. I'd hoped to have it done the first week of January, but - you know - it's been a pretty fucking awful month, what with the attempted white supremacist coup in the U.S. and all. Fellow U.S.-ians, please take care of yourselves this week and be careful. These assholes are everywhere and they thrive on fear. Don't let the bastards grind you down. #StandStrongStandTogether #KeepCalmAndKroganOn 
> 
> Many thanks, as always, to my badass betas who rein in my worst writing instincts and celebrate the better moments, and to you the readers who are sticking with this story and keep sending wonderful comments and words of encouragement! I do promise that the next chapter has _significantly_ less angst.


	14. Garrus 2 - Tequila and Tangos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victory calls for celebration, and some of the _Normandy's_ crew take a night off to visit the SSV _Denali's_ officers' club. And as good news rolls in from several sources, a friendly competition ensues between Garrus and James.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> 

~

“Cheers, gentlemen.”

“Oh, hell, James, another round already?” I ask.

“What, we’re celebrating aren’t we?” Steve laughs next to me. He takes two shot glasses from James and hands one to me.

“Hell yes, we are! Don’t tell me you’re slowing down on us, Scars.” He and Steve clink their glasses together. "Cheers, buddy!"

I sigh and hold the glass up to the light. The orange liquid has the telltale metallic sheen of a dextro-safe drink. Whoever keeps sending the drinks at least isn't trying to kill me. “Well, I suppose it would be rude to refuse yet another gift from these fine officers.”

“Now that’s the spirit - er, that might be too literal, I guess.” James laughs and then turns from our table and shouts, “Here’s to the _Denali_ and the best officers’ club in the fleet!”

A few of her officers sitting nearby hear him and toast their ship along with us. We throw our drinks back and slam the glasses down. Steve coughs once and I slap him on the back.

“That shit burns,” he coughs again and then laughs.

“Sorry, Esteban. If these are too much for you, maybe the next round will be fruity drinks with little umbrellas.”

“Like you’ve ever said no to one of my piña coladas or strawberry daiquiris, Jimmy.”

“Oh, was the daiquiri the red iced blended one? You made mine with the grandul fruit I think?” I ask.

“Yep, that’s the one,” Steve says. “Jimmy here thinks they’re too lowbrow when there’s real tequila to be had.”

“Why should it matter when the end result is the same?” I ask. All the same, I wonder if the bar has dextro-ingredients for a daiquiri.

“Hey, hey, don’t go there, Esteban. You know I’ll take a fruity drink when the mood hits me. But this is the senior officers’ club. It’s too classy for umbrella drinks. You know those are always better on a beach somewhere with the sun shining down and the sound of the water making you want to take a nap on the sand.”

“Ugh, if you’re going to wax poetic, I’m definitely going to need another drink,” I groan. Steve and James laugh before we’re interrupted by Steve’s omnitool.

“Esteban! We said no comms tonight at drinks!” He waves James off and steps away to speak into it. I catch something behind James and nudge him a little.

“Hey, Vega? In real life, do humans signal to their friends when someone is - wait - shit, what’s the term? Checking them out? Or is that just something from old vids?” I whisper, not taking my eyes off of the officer who hasn’t noticed me staring. He and his friends seem to be having the same sort of hushed conversation that we are.

James looks at me expectantly. “Scars, telling when that happens is one of the most sacred duties you have as a friend.”

“Alright then, very slowly - on your six - middle table, tall, curly brown hair. I think Steve’s got an admirer.” 

“Wait, Este - Dammit, Scars, I thought you meant for me!"

“Just look and tell me he’s not watching him.” I look away and, while I don’t exactly know how this game is played, James seems to stretch in an incredibly obvious way to turn around and look at the table. He turns back to me and makes a human expression where he frowns and raises his eyebrows at the same time. I think it means ‘sure, not bad,’ but it can be so hard to tell. Human faces move too many different ways.

“I think you’re right, Scars, and he’s definitely Esteban’s type. Good catch.”

“Okay, so what do we do next?”

“Well, first things first, we don’t trust Esteban to take advantage of this situation on his own.”

I click my mandibles in exasperation. “We don’t?”

James shakes his head. “Absolutely not. He won’t want to blow us off for some guy he doesn’t know.”

“So how do we make the introduction?”

“Subtly, Scars. This is a covert op now. To start, we’ll send them a round of drinks in return. And, here, take his seat.”

“Ah, I see, so he can look - ”

“Shut up,” he hisses. “Hey, Esteban, all good?”

“Yeah.” Steve confirms, still swiping away messages. “Joker’s on his way. Should be here soon - Wait, Garrus, did you take my seat?”

“Huh? No, I was here, I was just asking James about his N-program training.”

Steve looks at me like I’m a little crazy, but he sits and turns to James. “Right, right! Any word from the brass yet?”

A grin spreads across James’s face. “Yeah, I met the program’s field CO this morning, actually. She’s here on the _Denali_ , if you can believe it. Captain Mncwabe is putting a crew together to do some SAR missions around the galaxy. Sounds like we’re gonna be doing our training on the road since all the classic sites - you know, the school outside of Rio, the Europa proving grounds, Arcturus - were all destroyed in the war. And - okay, yeah, it’s not _technically_ official yet but you guys are my brothers now, so here - check this out.”

James makes a bit of a show of looking around before pulling out his dog tags. There’s an N-insignia hanging from the chain. “Get this - the second she knew we were making it back, Mncwabe got ahold of my records and dossiers and shit. And then I guess she and Shepard talked at some point because she’s starting me out as an N3 in recognition of my service under him. She told me she needs to see my stuff first-hand and make sure I can lead a squad on my own before she can officially advance me like that and I’ve got some language stuff to review. Not sure when we’re shipping out, but I am on my _way_ , guys!”

“Holy shit,” I mutter. “That’s incredible, James. Congratulations.”

“Yeah, good on you, you’ve definitely earned it!” Steve yells.

“What did he do now?” I turn and see that Joker has finally joined us.

“Here, sit down, let me order you a drink,” I offer. “James, tell him what’s what while I go over to the bar.”

Joker takes my seat and I leave our table. From his whoop, I guess James didn’t lose any time in telling him the news. They’re so absorbed in the conversation that they don’t see me veer off and head for the table with Steve’s fanbase. The club is so crowded that nobody at the table notices me until I’m already there leaning in to talk.

“Hey, there. Garrus Vakarian. Please don’t make a scene.”

The group’s leader, Steve’s admirer, acknowledges me with equal subtlety. “Yes, General, we know who you all are. May I be of any assistance?”

“Just wanted to say thanks for the drinks, Commander.”

“Of course, sir. It’s the least we could do for the crew of the _Normandy_.” He speaks with a pleasantly flowing accent. French, I believe, because of how he rolls his r’s. I have an impossible time distinguishing it from James’s Spanish, but I’m pretty sure I’m right.

“Anyway, I also wanted to tell you that my friend Steve, you know, the one with the short black beard?”

“Busted,” one of his friends snickers. 

The Commander takes it in stride and only gives her the briefest ‘I’ll kill you,’ looks before saying, “I - apologize, General. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“Oh, it’s not that at all. I just wanted to tell you that he’s partial to piña coladas and daiquiris. And what are all of you drinking?”

The Commander fights back a smile, steals another glance at our table, and then says, “Vodka cranberries are our poison tonight, General. Thank you very much.”

I nod and leave their table, and the Commander comes with me. We go to the bar but on opposite ends, order our respective rounds of drinks, and then I head back.

When I get to the table, James looks at me like I’m a complete idiot. “Looks like you forgot something, Scars.”

“I was told rather unceremoniously that we’re not allowed to pay for our own drinks. Ever. And there’s literally a waiting list to send them to us.”

“Now _this_ I could get used to,” Joker laughs. 

“That’s what I’ve been telling you, Wings! We roll together, we drink together, we live life to the fullest _together_!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, that and think about how much money we’ll save since we’ll never have to buy our own drinks again!” Joker says.

“It’s true, we do sort of stand out,” Steve adds.

“Speaking of you standing out, I - ow!” Something barks against my shin. I think James just kicked me under the table. 

I catch a dangerous gleam in his eye. “Kinda hard not to when you’ve got a spiky monster taking up half the table, amiright?”

“True, true,” I admit. “Not that a human the size of a krogan is that much more _subtle_ , Jimmy.”

“Alright, so between the spike monster, baby krogan-man, and the creaky-legged pilot, Steve’s by far the most normal one of us,” Joker snorts.

“That’s a scary thought,” Steve retorts. “But hey, speaking of the four of us, now that we’re back to the fleet and civilization are you really going to leave us, Joker? You know I can’t handle these two on my own.”

“Oh, boooooo!” James cries out. “We said no shop-talk tonight. Don’t ruin our first of many victory drinking sessions.”

“It would be if we actually had any drinks,” I say, glancing around James at the other table where they’re happily sipping their new drinks. The Commander raises his glass to me and signals that ours are coming in just a minute. James tries kicking me again, and this time I strike back. His grunt of pain is worth a dozen drinks. He might have strength, but I have talons.

“Yeah, guys let’s not talk about any of that stuff tonight,” Joker says. “Nothing else about the future, nothing about what we’re doing with our lives - let’s just enjoy the moment and have another round.”

As if on cue, a server comes with a tray of bright blue and orange swirled drinks with frilly pink umbrellas. James groans while Steve claps once and rubs his hands together. The other Commander raises his glass again, and I nod once before returning the gesture.

“So, what are we drinking to this time?” I ask. “Let’s say... to new opportunities, whatever they might be, simply because we’re alive to pursue them.”

“I’ll drink to that,” James says.

“To the friends who made all of the terrifying everything worth it,” Joker responds.

“To us, gentlemen.” Steve lifts his glass to ours and we toast.

The rounds keep coming. It’s early enough in the evening that we can space them out and not worry about missing out on any generosity. We don’t talk about the future, but we do laugh about moments of certain death that we’ve survived. Needless to say, there are many of them. There are even some new stories we’ve never shared, believe it or not. And I think at some point Steve locks eyes with the Commander at the other table because I swear he tries to hide a grin by taking a drink from his clearly empty glass. 

_Dammit, I should have gotten the man’s name._

After two or three more rounds, my omnitool beeps and I almost spill a glass lifting it up to take the message.

“Scars, I swear. The next person who answers their damn - ”

“James, shut up,” I say, scanning the message and making sure I read it right. “Looks like we’ve got something new to drink about. That was Wrex. Eve had her baby. Little Urdnot Mordin is healthy and thriving.”

“No shit,” Joker whispers before James and Steve jump up and start dancing around the table.

“I - I can’t believe it,” I chuckle weakly. It’s huge, monumental. An enormous moment in history, and we’re some of the first to know. And as if in response to this news, another round makes its appearance and the dance floor of the club opens up. Sure, it’s no Purgatory or Afterlife, but it’s lively in its own right and now there’s even more to celebrate.

“To Doctor Mordin Solus and his namesake,” I call.

“To curing the genophage,” Steve says quietly.

“To Wrex and Eve, the scariest parents in the galaxy,” James responds.

“To Shepard and Mordin,” Joker adds. “The heroes of Tuchanka.”

We down our drinks and we’ve passed the point of caring anymore. Celebration takes over our group and all of us - even Joker - make our way over to the dance floor. We dance in a loose group, making sure to keep Joker at the edge in case he needs to make a quick escape to avoid getting trampled. And sure enough, we’re not even there three minutes before the drink benefactors table rises and starts dancing near us. James manages to maneuver our group toward them and rotates us so that Steve and the yet-unnamed Commander are practically on top of each other. James winks at me with a ‘this is how you get it done’ smirk. 

I’ll let him enjoy his smugness for a little while longer.

We dance for I’m not even sure how long. Steve and what’s-his-name have definitely locked eyes and brushed against each other several times. After a while the music fades and the band stops. The lead instrumentalist announces they’re taking a short break, and we all applaud them. No one leaves the dance floor; everyone just sort of mingles, talking and meeting new people. Steve and Joker step away to get some water, and the Commander takes advantage of their absence to come over to me and James - without his friends.

“General Vakarian, I apologize for not introducing myself earlier,” he says, extending his hand. “Commander Oliver Fuentes Bartumeu.”

“A pleasure,” I return. “This is Lieutenant Commander James Vega.”

“ _Con mucho gusto, señor,_ ” James says and snaps a salute. It’s returned quickly and followed by a handshake.

“ _Encantat de conèixer-te també_ ,” Bartumeu says.

“Ahhh, Catalán?”

“ _Sí,_ yes, my parents are from the Andorran subprefecture,” Bartumeu confirms. I think. I couldn’t name more than a dozen or so government regions on Earth.

“Never made it over to Europe myself, sir. San Diego born and bred.”

“Your city is beautiful, Mr. Vega. Sorry, _Lieutenant Commander_ Vega. Please forgive the familiarity. We don’t stand on ceremony in this officers’ club.”

‘Hey, that’s no problem, sir. What outfit are you with?”

“I was in command of the _Telemark_ until the Battle of the Crucible. We were part of the _Denali’s_ vanguard squadron.”

“Were?” I ask.

Commander Bartumeu nods sadly. “We were damaged in the battle and had to abandon ship. We barely made it back on board before the retreat through the Relay.”

“Worst feeling in the world, isn’t it, Commander? Losing your baby?” Joker is back with Steve and water glasses for us. “The _Telemark_... _Waterloo-_ class, right? ES-5?”

“That’s correct. We were slated for transfer to a freshly christened ES-6 right before the invasion. She never saw the stars, I’m afraid.”

“That’s shit luck,” Joker responds and holds out his hand. “Lieutenant Moreau. Jeff, or Joker, whatever you want.”

“Of course, Lieutenant Moreau. You’re famous in the pilot circuits. It’s an honor to meet you.” He shakes Joker’s hand and turns to Steve. “And, I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce myself on the dance floor. My name is Oliver Fuentes Bartumeu.”

“Steve Cortez. Good to meet you, Commander.”

“You as well, Steve,” he replies with a warm smile he certainly didn’t give any of the rest of us. “Well, gentlemen, it seems my friends managed to get an empty table. Would any of you care to join us for a few games of poker?”

“Sure, I’m game,” Steve says.

“I’ll go a round or two, but I’m not much of a gambler. Gotta save up for a new arm.” My joke gets a few laughs out of everyone and James nods approvingly. He still thinks this is entirely his doing.

“Definitely in,” James replies. “How about you Joker?”

“I’m out. And it looks like we’ve got more company, guys,” he says, nodding toward the door. Tali, Liara, and Kaidan have just walked in. Tali returns my wave and sits at an open table. Good, I have an excuse now to bow out of the game in a bit. Joker heads over to join them, and the rest of us go to the poker table.

It's clear from the first hand that I'm way out of my league here. The game is popular with turians now, but I have such a hard time reading human facial expressions that it makes judging their moves impossible. And while I know how the _Normandy_ crew plays, the _Telemark_ group’s an entirely different matter. James is taking the game more seriously than the rest of us, given Steve and Commander Bartumeu's lively conversation which I’ve come to understand is unusual during this game if strangers are playing. It's also clear that Steve is enjoying Bartumeu's attention. And then my strategy falls into place. We go another few rounds before I finally have a chance to thin the table.

"James, I see your bet and raise you twenty," I tell him. Steve and Bartumeu - as well as his XO and navigator - have already folded this hand, so now it's just the two of us.

"You sure, Scars? There are two queens showing and I'm on a roll right now."

"Oh, I'm sure." I throw the credit chit down.

James taps his cards on the table. "Alright, Scars, I see your twenty and raise thirty."

"Then I see and call your thirty. Show us what you've got, Vega."

He smiles and lays them down. "Full house. So much for that new arm."

"Shit," I say. "I was afraid of that."

"I tried to warn you, Scars," he laughs. Bartumeu grimaces a little and Steve shakes his head.

"That's a tough hand to beat." 

"Sure is, Steve," I admit. "But I only said I was afraid of it; I didn't say I couldn't beat it."

"Wait, what?" James asks right as he's reaching for the pile of chits. Then he swears in three different languages when I lay mine down.

"Four of a kind, Vega. Those queens liked me better."

"Sonuvabitch!" he spits. Okay, that's four languages, then. "Good hand, good bet. Bastard."

Steve laughs and whoops once before clapping me on the back. "Damn, Garrus, you got him."

"Well played, friend," Bartumeu nods. "Another round of drinks before the next hand?"

"Oh, I think I've got a few more in me," I say.

"In," Steve replies, taking the cards and starting to shuffle.

"Vega?" I draw out the question.

"No, I'm out. I still have at least some of my dignity left."

"Some of your dignity... and none of your money," I tease, twisting the knife just enough to make him leave the table but not enough to make him want to stay and try to win it back.

"Yeah, yeah. Another twenty or so nights like this and you'll win everything back I've gotten from you, Scars," James laughs. He stands and offers his hand to each of us. "Commander, good to meet you. Make sure you clean this guy out next round, alright?"

"I'm certain my luck will turn around soon," Bartumeu responds.

"Oh, I’m sure it will," Steve says, throwing the cards down for us. "Alright, same rules. Let's go again."

And now that I’ve successfully gotten James to leave and it's down to four of us, my strategy changes. I lose the next round to Steve, but not by much. I win the second on a lucky bluff before the stakes get too high. It's still enough to get Bartumeu's astute XO and navigator to bow out of the game, so now I can make my last move. I wait another two rounds so it's not as obvious, and then I start flooding the pot with credits on a terrible hand.

"Alright, Commander, it's your bet. How lucky do you feel?"

"Oliver, if you please, General," he responds, flipping his cards up off the table to look at them again. "I see your thirty-five, and I raise forty."

"Impressive bet. Steve?"

"To hell with it, I see your forty and raise forty-five."

"Bold move, Cortez," I say before carefully considering the pile in front of us. Neither of them is backing down. I glance at each of them, trying to determine which of them might beat the other. I have a feeling it's going to be Steve because it's the largest bet he's made all night. If he loses, I'll be wishing the turn order were different so I could have called out Bartumeu instead of him.

"Alright, I see your forty-five and I... I am all in."

"And I'm calling your bluff, General, so I'm also all in. Steve?"

"Pardon my - well, not French seeing as you speak it fluently - so pardon my insubordination and uncouth American ways, but I think you're both full of shit. I am _all in_."

"Alright, so who goes first? Me? Do I go first?" I ask.

"Let's just count off," Bartumeu suggests. "From three, two, one - flip."

Bartumeu laughs at my pitiful pairs of fours and sevens before he's drowned out by Steve's roar of triumph. They both obviously beat me, but Steve's straight flush in hearts handily wins over Bartumeu's three aces.

"Oh, _merde_ ," Bartumeu says, collapsing back and throwing his hands up. His XO puts her hand on his shoulder and smirks at me in approval. I can't wait to hold this over James forever.

"Good game, gentlemen," Steve smiles as he pulls all the credit chits toward him. "You both done? Wanna throw in some banking numbers or beachfront property for another hand?"

"And come from behind with a sweeping surprise victory and ruin your night?" Bartumeu asks him. "I think not."

"Yeah, absolutely not," I reply. "I took a shot and missed, but I never miss twice. You got us, Steve. I'll catch up with you later."

"Sounds good, Garrus." Neither of them immediately move from the table, and the music is loud enough that I guess Steve doesn't think I'll hear him say, "Sorry if this is too forward, sir, but could I make it up to you with a dance or two?"

I smile as I walk away from them and push through the growing crowd toward our friends. A few people raise their glasses to me or nod as I pass, but no one bothers me or tries to get an autograph or anything. I guess we’ll all just have to get used to the gawking from now on. But I have to say it’s nice being thanked for once.

“Garrus! You saw the good news from Tuchanka, right?” Tali asks me.

“I did. What took all of you so long to get down here to celebrate?”

“We were helping Shepard with some things,” Liara replies. 

“So I’ve gathered,” I note, taking a seat next to Tali who promptly touches her hand to her vocalizer and then holds it out for me to kiss.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Kaidan adds. “Work’s already piling on for the Summit.”

“The Summit? What the hell do they need him for?”

“Reports, mainly,” Tali answers quickly. “At least for now.”

“Figures,” I grumble. “I take it he’s not coming down, then?”

Kaidan shakes his head. "No, he’s resting. He wasn't up for another party tonight.” 

"Makes sense. We’ve hardly seen you the last few days. I imagine he's tired from planning and your, what does Joker call it? _‘Debriefings’_?"

Kaidan chokes on his drink as he smiles into his cup. “For the record, we’ve been doing more than that.”

“There’s no need to be ashamed. This is a judgment-free zone, Kaidan,” Tali says. 

“I don’t recall ever agreeing to that stipulation,” Liara smiles, making the rest of us laugh. “Oh, and Garrus - Joker said to tell you thank you for the drinks, but he was getting tired so he left to go to bed.”

“Disappointing he didn’t want to stay,” Kaidan says.

“Yeah, I think he’s still getting used to being back and - ”

“Shop talk, Scars,” James interrupts.

“And we’ll talk about it tomorrow, I guess,” I finish and Kaidan nods.

“Fair enough. What have you guys been up to?"

“We're trying to get Steve to fraternize with that Commander we were playing poker with,” James grins. 

"Very nice. Where are they now?" Kaidan laughs, turning around. 

“Dancing over there. See? The tall one, lighter curly hair. Can't stop smiling at him."

Kaidan whistles low. "Oh, damn. You could cut through a hull with that jawline.” 

“Need we remind you that you’re taken, Commander?” Liara asks.

“Hey, now. A guy can still look and appreciate beauty.”

Tali stabs her finger in his chest. “Well, I’ll remind you that between the four of us we know several hundred ways to kill you if you ever break Shepard’s heart.” 

“I surrender, I surrender! Let me rephrase - Garrus and James, excellent wingmenship. He’s very handsome, but definitely not my type. He’s a little too perfect, you know? I prefer my men twice-resurrected, physically damaged, and emotionally scarred.” 

“Jesus, L2, save _something_ for the wedding vows,” James laughs.

“Oh, we are _not_ going down _that_ space lane,” Kaidan warns. “We’re talking about Steve, remember?”

“Nice try, Alenko. You can’t get away that easily. Are you honestly telling us neither of you has proposed yet?” Tali asks.

Kaidan looks at each of us helplessly. “I didn’t say we haven’t talked about it. Or that we _weren’t_. I - we at this _table_ are not going down that space lane.” 

“And what exactly are you waiting for?” Liara asks

Kaidan groans and reaches into his pocket. He holds up a ring with one hand and silences us with the other. “Oh, it’s happening. We’re waiting for the right time because the last few days have been a lot. So keep your mouths shut, will you? I want the moment to be a surprise.”

“Oooh, let me see it!” Tali demands. He hands the ring over to her. “The metal is beautiful, expensive. It looks like turilium. I’m running a spectrum analysis, thanks.”

“That’s such a ‘you’ thing to do,” I tell her. Then she gets really quiet for someone who isn't talking. “Tali? You alright?”

“Kaidan, this - is this what I think it is?” she asks. He nods, and she holds her free hand up to her vocalizer.

“What is it?” Liara asks.

Tali clears her throat. “It’s military-grade turilium from a starship’s hull. The spectrum analysis says its eezo signature matches the original _Normandy_.”

The table falls silent and we all look at Kaidan. She hands him back the ring and he holds it out in the palm of his hands.

“How did you get it?” I ask softly.

“After the Collectors destroyed her and, well, you know, it took the Alliance those full two years to find her crash site. I managed to get some time away from my duties, so I went to visit it. This was before Shepard set up the monument and before I even knew he was alive. I needed to see her for myself, and I hated every second of being there. I broke regulations and took a fist-sized piece with me. I couldn’t help it. Just didn’t feel right leaving her like that, and I wanted something to remember everyone by. It’s been stuffed in the bottom of my rucksack since then. Anyway, I got the idea at the Christmas party and had Glyph use the _Normandy_ ’s fabricator to make it for me while everyone was occupied. I thought it was, you know, symbolic of where we met and our new chance at everything.”

"That's actually very romantic, Kaidan," Liara says. "He'll love it."

"Definitely makes sense for the two of you," I nod.

Tali snickers. "Wait, James, are you _crying_?"

"What? No, the smoke got in my eyes is all. But that's really beautiful, man. Definitely not dark like Loco making his own memorial plaque."

"I was worried it might be too much, but he seemed to appreciate it.”

“Wait, so you’ve already shown him the ring, but you didn’t propose?” Liara asks.

“You say that like humans make any sense,” I say.

Kaidan shrugs. “Was necessary in the moment to show my commitment, but like I said we’re waiting for the right time to make it official.”

We all look at each other and then back at Kaidan, who puts the ring back into his pocket. I break the silence. “Kaidan, you two are going to be alright. I really believe that.”

Kaidan puts his hand on my shoulder and looks away. His face screws up and tears gather in the corners of his eyes. He drives his knuckles into his mouth trying to regain control. Each of us moves our chair around closer to him and takes either a hand or puts one on a shoulder or his back.

"Kaidan, are you alright?" Liara asks. He nods, still shaking. A few people look around at us, but they avert their eyes just as quickly out of respect and knowing. The ongoing party happening here and across the galaxy is a thin veneer over the hell that we've just barely survived.

"Do you need us to get you out of here?" I ask him. 

He shakes his head and inhales sharply a few times. "No, I'm okay, it's just - _ugh_ , I think everything finally hit me."

"It's alright, L2. Just let it out, man"

"Do you mean everything we've been through? Or is it everything we've lost?" Tali asks.

"No, that's all there and it still hurts, but this is more. It just hit me that we made it. We actually made it through."

I look around at everyone, not just our team gathered here but everyone in the officers' club. You don't have to be a xenoanthropologist to see the joy and relief on all of these faces. We imagined failure and death so much it seemed so inevitable. And now that we've run the gauntlet and made it out the other side… Well, his words strike a deep chord in me.

Tali catches my face. "Don't you start to break down on us, too, Vakarian."

Kaidan laughs and the heaviness of the mood is broken for the moment.

"Let's have another round?" I ask. There are nods all around, and all it takes is for me to signal a server and they immediately bring another round from someone.

"Okay. I’m alright. Tell me about this guy you're pushing Steve on. What's his name?" Kaidan smirks and wipes away the last of his tears. "How's this plan going?"

"His name is Commander Oliver Fuentes Bartumeu. And it's going very well, if I do say so myself," I reply.

"Yeah, thanks to me," James snorts.

"Oh, really?" I ask. "I seem to recall that you didn't even know Bartumeu was watching him until I told you."

"This should be entertaining," Liara says.

"And who sat Steve down so he could see him at their table?" James scoffs.

I lean in. "Who snuck over there, undetected, and told them he loves piña coladas?"

"Liara, should we make a bet on how long this lasts?" Tali asks her.

James shrugs. "I'll give you credit for that smooth move, but I'm the one who got them to dance together."

"I've got a hundred credits that says this lasts an hour," Kaidan grins. 

"I've got a thousand that says it lasts the rest of their lives," Liara sighs.

"Dancing near someone isn't the same as dancing _with_ someone," I respond. "And you're forgetting the poker game."

"You got lucky," James counters.

"I bled you dry and knocked you out then lost spectacularly _on purpose_ so Steve would win it all," I smirk. "Now look at them."

He leans around Tali and huffs. They're dancing, but not particularly closely. “Yeah, I see what you mean. Of course, you could fit a cruiser in the respectful distance they're leaving between each other.”

“The point stands, Jimmy. Just give it some time.”

James leans back in. "Alright, I bet you with one move I can seal the deal for them tonight."

"Are you saying you're only interested in Steve's temporary happiness? Because I'm in this for him forever."

"You two are the absolute worst," Tali accuses. 

"Hey, who's known him longer?" James asks. "Out of respect for him, I won't lay any money down. This one's pure bragging rights."

"Of course, respect for him - and because I cleaned out your wallet," I fire back. Kaidan cracks up at that.

"Ohhh," James laughs low and shakes his head. "Scars, you're gonna be eating your words for years."

I lean back and gesture out from the table. "By all means."

"I'll be right back." James gets up and makes his way around the dance floor.

"Garrus, don't ruin this for Steve just because it's fun to push James's buttons," Liara admonishes.

"Oh, this is all part of the plan. James is going to tell the band to play some slow songs that require closer physical contact, just watch."

"How could you _possibly_ plan for that?" Tali asks me.

"Because I know that James knows him better than I do, and I also know that James is a big softie underneath those kilometers of muscle." 

"You're an evil genius," Kaidan laughs. "Maybe on par with Aria - "

He’s interrupted by applause, and then I thank the spirits because at that moment the current song ends and the band leader announces that that there's going to be a change of pace for a few songs. James saunters over to the bar as couples start pairing off. The first two songs are good - one Thessian and one Palavenian - both old classics, both requiring Steve and Bartumeu to get closer. But the third one starts and James has truly outdone himself. 

"Oh, he's good," I whisper under my breath. 

The new song is one of Earth’s older tangos, late-21st I believe. The energy between them changes instantly, and half the dance floor has cleared away to let them spin and dip. The sensual nature of this dance is what makes it my absolute favorite, and they're both excellent at it. Bartumeu is leading, but it's clear that Steve could also take charge any second. And halfway through the song, that's exactly what happens. Steve takes Bartumeu completely by surprise. Their energy spikes even higher, and that's when James makes his reappearance.

"Game, set, match, Scars?"

“Maybe your first good move of the night, Jimmy. But how did you pay off the band when I have all your money?”

“Free drinks, free song requests. The real benefits of being a hero. Ready to admit I made this happen?”

“We’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?”

“You two are idiots,” Tali says.

“ _Your_ idiot, Admiral,” I smile. Eyes roll around the table. Steve and Bartumeu now share the entire dance floor with only three other couples all engaged in the dance.

“Can you teach me this dance, Garrus?” Tali asks me.

“Of course, any time. And there are thousands of vids on the extra -”

“Um, Garrus? I think the Admiral means right now,” Liara suggests.

“Oh, alright, I can show you the basic steps here,” I say. I stand and offer Tali my hand. She takes it as we step away from the table. She puts her left hand high up on my shoulder, and I freeze up.

“Garrus?”

“I - uh - need a minute to think about how to do this with only, well…” I look down at the stump of my right arm.

“We can wait until - ” Tali says and takes half an unsure step back. I surprise her by taking a full step forward, and when she leans back I dip her and she instinctively grabs the upper part of my bicep above the stump.

“Well, that will work for now,” I say down to her. “I may not look as clean-cut, but that doesn't matter - this dance is all about the partner who’s following.” I pull her up into a slow spin so we’ve changed the directions we were facing. I tell her to step back with one foot, which I follow, and then the other. She catches on quickly, and we fall into rhythm. “The tango is different from many other dances in that the leading partner is much less visually active. Watch Steve. Every move he makes is the barest suggestion of where Bartumeu should go next, and then Bartumeu adds the flair when he follows.” We keep doing our basic back-and-forth steps, and then I twist a few inches and push just a hint to turn us again. Tali turns and adds in a small kick she must have just seen Bartumeu execute. “Very nice.”

Our table and those whose view we’re now partially blocking clap just a little and Tali laughs. “Alright, I think I’m getting the hang of this! Oh, that move was beautiful!”

I glance behind me and see the end of it. I nod to Tali. “Beautiful, full of sex appeal, and just a little too complicated for us right now. Let’s do a slightly easier version. Alright, so I’ll take a bigger step back, you put your feet right together where they would be otherwise, keep your core tight, and then trust me not to let you fall. Ready... now.” 

I do almost drop her since my balance is off without both arms to pull her in slower. But she planks her body up my right thigh with only the smallest amount of shaking and we’ve done it. The room erupts in clapping and cheers, but not for us. The song ends and Steve and Bartumeu take a bow, chests heaving from the exertion of their dance. I bring Tali back up to a standing position, and she puts a hand on one mandible with her thumb over my mouth - our version of a kiss when she has her suit on.

“We’re definitely going to do this more often,” she says.

“Absolutely.”

We get back to our table, who do actually clap for us, and we take our seats again.

“Bravo,” Kaidan says, raising a fresh glass. There’s an entire tray of them ready for us again, but I think I’ve reached my limit tonight.

“Yes, well done,” Liara says. “The tango was one of the first things about human culture Thessia truly fell in love with.”

“You’re welcome for that,” Kaidan laughs.

“Thank you, thank you,” Tali says.

“Yeah, not bad at all, Scars,” James says. “You ready to admit my wingman skills won the night?”

“Why would I do that?” He raises his glass and nods at something behind me. I just catch Steve and Bartumeu leaving together with huge grins on their faces and hands brushing together as they walk.

I turn back to him. “Let’s just call it a team effort.”

"Here, have another drink, Garrus," Tali says, patting my arm.

"What is this?"

"Kaidan says it's called a tequila sunrise."

The sweet, juicy smell is certainly alluring, and I decide one more drink won't hurt.

“Well, then, _tequila se’lai_ to you, too.”

We are celebrating, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See? There are _some_ good things happening for the crew! I promise there's more to come, but the war recovery is still on and things are going to get rougher before they really get better. 
> 
> And on that note, there's going to be a bit of a wait because the next two chapters are definitely more psychologically heavy and will need to be posted together. I've already started in on them, but it's probably going to take a few weeks to get them polished up and right where I want them to be.
> 
> Thanks, as always, to all of you for reading and the wonderful comments and messages you've left me, and a shout out to my rock star betas!


	15. Kaidan 5 - A Mother's Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares strike, both in sleeping and waking. Kaidan, reeling from learning about what Shepard did on the Citadel, struggles to help him cope with their new reality and seeks out a sanity check with his mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TW/CW: Mentions of suicide, ideation, and attempts**
> 
> _  
> *****No major character deaths*****  
> _  
>  This four chapter arc - Kaidan 5; Shepard 4, Pt. 1; Joker 3; and Shepard 4, Pt 2 - are _heavy_ on the post-war grief and major depression. Again, there are _no major character deaths_ , but the warning stands - especially during Year Two of Pandemic. I want y'all to be taking care of yourselves first and foremost, which is why I haven't posted any of these chapters on their own because the first two end on cliffhangers. So if these are topics that hit hard, I highly recommend reading these first two (Kaidan 5 and Shepard 4, Pt. 1) together when you have time. The other two chapters will be posted in the next week or so.
> 
> I promise everyone comes out the other side of the arc alive and healthy, but the story is not kind to Joker or Shepard for the next few chapters.

~~~

I’m running again, lost in a maze of corridors. Klaxons blare and the bulkhead shakes beneath my pouding feet. Nameless faces sprint past me without a word, old fear made suddenly fresh written on them.

They survived. We’re not prepared. And we can’t fight back so soon after we thought we'd won.

Alarm lights strobe red and cast everything into hideous shadows. Voices shout, indistinct from one another, mixing with screams and panic. There’s another fantastic explosion, and the air starts rushing toward the breach. The ship is dying. None of us is going to survive. And yet a single thought breaks through this cacophony.

_Get to Shepard! Get to Shepard!_

Someone barrels into me and I get spun to the ground by others running past. I hit the floor hard and scream in frustration before my breath is kicked out of me. I’m being trampled; boots are driving into my back and crushing my limbs. I can’t raise myself up. I try to fight off the panic overwhelming me. My training and experience are disappearing into a cloud of black and red. A boot kicks into the side of my head, and that cloud consumes me.

I sink into the darkness and fall through the floor.

_Shepard!_

“Get up, Cadet Alenko!”

I know this voice. I hate this voice. I _killed_ this voice.

“ _Now_ , you worthless shit!”

Rough, taloned hands pull me off the deck, and then I’m staring into the face of the only living being I’ve ever truly hated. Commander Vyrnnus is inches from my face, and I’m seventeen again - seventeen and small; scared and helpless.

“You’re an embarrassment to your abysmally pathetic species, Cadet Alenko. I’d be doing the galaxy a favor by flushing you out the airlock right now.”

Even grasping me and holding me six inches off the ground, he towers over me. Some small place in the back of my mind whispers, _I didn’t hit my last growth spurt until university._ But those are someone else’s future memories. My entire world is the scarred, spiteful visage of this turian; his rank breath that always smelled of jura root tea and never fails to make that other me blanche at the barest hint of the flavor.

"You’ll be as useless a teacher as you were a student. Can you give me a single reason to keep you alive?"

I mutter something. Even I don't catch the words. But whatever they were, they make him even angrier. He snarls and throws me backwards. I land in a heap, curled up to protect myself from the kick I know is coming.

_The kicks always came when I was down._

This time is no different. It catches me in the ribs and I hear - but don’t feel - a snap. The other me remembers that pain. It lasted weeks and only abated a few days before - another kick, another snap - a few days before… before what? I can’t remember what happened, how I made it stop.

The other me does. I feel a power rise in me, charging me, driving away the pain that once existed but doesn’t now.

“Up, vermin!” Vyrnnus screams at me. He kicks me again and I flip onto my stomach with my arms and legs curled under me. “I gave you an order, you little bastard!”

I launch myself away from him in a crackle of blue energy before the next kick comes. I slide backward on one knee, body poised to reverse its launch at my enemy who was meant to be my teacher. I remember him now, and I know what I have to do.

“No, Kaidan, don’t!!!” a voice screams. I knew her, once. I can’t remember her name, and the other me never found out what happened to her after Jump Zero. But just like then I ignore her pleas.

“You don’t have the guts to attack me,” Vyrnnus mocks.

I answer by snarling and jumping up, rallying my full biotic power - abilities which I only dreamed of as a teenager. I hit him with three biotic Punches as I sprint at him. He blocks the first two, but the third shatters his Barrier and then I launch an attack I only learned as an adult. My Reave catches him completely off-guard and he writhes as I Lift him into the air. The purple ribbons of energy swirl around him and drain his life away. I start screaming at him and then use my biotics to Leap up. My arc toward him slows at its zenith. His agonized face turns toward me, and yet he still sneers.

“You will never be able to protect yourself.”

I throw another Punch. Blood splatters from his mouth.

“You will never be able to protect the ones you love.”

I draw my leg back as I did all those years ago.

“You will never be able to protect Shepard.”

I roar as I close the final meter of distance between us. My leg blasts forward with all the biotic energy I can muster and my foot connects with his skull. I hear his neck snap, something I didn’t notice in the moment but remembered years later. He’s blasted back by the force of it and skids at least five meters away from me.

I land gracefully. My body, perfectly honed by combat, is a weapon poised to strike again in any direction. I examine my still glowing hands and they bear every scar of the two decades of skill and experience since Jump Zero. I look up and see Vyrnnus’s lifeless body sprawled facing away from me. I approach him cautiously, hands still charged in case he wakes and attacks me again. Once he broke my trust it could never be regained. Even this part of my mind still remembers that. I reach him and stop in confusion. His armor is the same, white with orange trim, but the body at my feet isn’t a turian. I kneel down and roll it back toward me.

Shepard’s dead, accusing eyes stare up at me.

I recoil in horror. I scream in a way I never could have imagined. “ _No, Shepard!!!”_

“Wake up!” I scream at myself.

_Oh, God, did I hurt him? Actually hurt him?_

“ _Wake up!_ ”

I don’t wake. And his lifeless body dissolves to ash and cinder in my hands.

I cover my face, cowering before the terror of it. And then I hear that noise. That horrible titanic sound of vengeful gods come for destruction. There’s a rushing around me but it’s not _them_.

When I look up, I’m surrounded by millions. Endless rows and columns of uniformed soldiers of every species standing at attention, backs straight and hands raised in salute. I stand and find myself in the middle of a parade carpet stretching along an endless line of soldiers in one direction and toward starry darkness in the other. A cold wind blows at me from the former. I turn, confused, unable to decide which way to go. Then as one, like the galaxy’s largest drill team, the ranks lower their hands and point down the carpet toward the void. I follow their direction and start running.

Indistinct chants follow me. Lines from drills, maybe, or common orders barked from bridges and battlefields. My run is sluggish, the distance imagined. There’s no difference between a centimeter and a kilometer. The soldier’s faces follow me as I run, but their arms never lower. Their eyes are as dead as Shepard’s when he laid at my feet, and I think maybe these are all the ones who died to get us here. That thought seems to speed everything up, and the darkness rushes toward me. The parade carpet ripples and turns to red grass, still lined with the unmoving pointing soldiers, but now there’s an end in sight. And I can hear the roar of ocean waves crashing into a cliff base.

Shepard stands at the edge of a precipice. I can’t get to him fast enough.

“Shepard!”

He turns to me. “Kaidan. Go back.”

“No,” I shake my head. I’m still running, but he’s not getting any closer.

“Forget what I said, Kaidan. Forget all of it. I died the second I chose to Destroy them. There’s no hope for me.”

“I won’t let them take you from me!” Painstakingly, I’m getting closer.

“Neither of us can stop what I have to do now,” he laments. “There’s no other way to make up for what I did. And he won’t let me live free.”

“Shepard, who - ”

The noise sounds again, closer and louder than before, and the void flashes to brilliant life in beams of scarlet and blood red. I raise my arms to block out the light, but I can see it through my flesh and bones. A violent wind whips around us and drives me back.

A Reaper rises up behind Shepard.

The colossus of extinction rears above us, filling the horizon. I track its red eye upward reluctantly, horrified, unable to look away. I advance on them, hands still held up to block the wind and light, stunned almost to silence until I find my voice and scream, “Get away from him!”

_**“You are incapable of understanding.”** _

Sovereign. I remember. I’ll never forget that voice. I was with Shepard when he activated the Prothean beacon on Virmire and spoke to him for the first time. And I was there at the end of the beginning when he infested Saren’s body in the Citadel’s Council Chambers and we killed them both.

“We understood enough to kill your kind!” I scream. My breath turns into a grunt as I push against the light and wind, taking my first step forward.

_**“You will end because we demand it.”** _

“No! We destroyed you, together! And he survived all of you in the end!”

_**“He cannot defeat us, and you cannot save him.”** _

“Let me go,” Shepard insists. I’m only a few steps away from him. He turns from me toward Sovereign. “Let me go, Kaidan.”

“Shepard, don’t!”

_**“We are eternal.”** _

“It’s for the best. I’m sorry.”

Shepard spreads his arms and falls toward Sovereign over the cliff.

I scream and leap after him, but he’s still out of reach and there’s nothing below us but death. The screams of billions fill my ears and the Reaper’s death knell erupts around us and all is consumed by the roaring of the waves.

* * *

I wake bolt-upright, drenched in a cold sweat.

I stare at my clenched hands, mortified that I’ll see them sparking blue, but they’re cold and colorless in the dark. I whip my head around and look over at Shepard. His back is to me and the door. He told me that he never used to sleep on his side like that, not before I started sharing his bed. Said it felt too vulnerable and he could never close his eyes. I can see his torso rising and falling gently in his undisturbed sleep. I didn’t hurt him; I didn’t even wake him. I release a loud sigh of relief I didn’t even know I was holding, and then I’m afraid I’ll wake him with _that_ of all things.

_Breathe, soldier, he’s fine._ You’re _fine. Get your bearings_.

We’re in new rooms away from the medbay. Hackett cordoned off an entire block of officers’ quarters for the crew. We have armed guards right outside the door and the rest of the team spread down the hall. If anything _had_ happened to him while I dreamed, there would be a dozen people crammed in here to protect us - him. I take a few shallow steadying breaths and run my fingers through my hair. I'm shaking and suddenly freezing. I look at the chrono by my bed. 0318. _Shit_. All of three hours and change after I got back from the officers’ club and we settled in.

I have to get up. If I stay here in bed I'll wake him. He'll sense something's wrong. He’ll know it’s not urgent or life-threatening, maybe, but still wrong. I won't be getting back to sleep for a long time, so I decide to take a walk. I grab my datapad from the nightstand and key in a message for him. I program it to only turn on if he wakes up and lay it face-down against my pillow. If I set it where he can see it and the message waiting light flashes, he actually _will_ wake up. Damn N7 instincts.

We keep the ambient light just low enough that I manage to find my pants and a sweatshirt without needing to turn any other lights on. We got into the habit when we first started sleeping together out of convenience and respect for the other person if we were on different schedules, or so we told ourselves. In a whispered conversation one night we both found out that the other absolutely hates sleeping in pitch darkness, so it became our SOP. The hallways lights will also be dimmed at this hour, so he should stay asleep. I pause at the door, risking setting off those instincts again by taking another look back at the man I love while zipping up my sweatshirt. I open the door and step out quickly, doing my best to shield him from the outside light. The guards both turn to me and salute.

“Is everything alright, Commander?” one of them asks me in low tones and I nod.

“Yeah, couldn’t sleep so I’m going for a walk. Call me if Commander Shepard wakes up or needs anything.”

“Yes, sir,” they both say.

I’m not even sure where I’m going. Our block of rooms is completely silent. If it were a few hours earlier, I would know exactly who was still up and have a good guess as to why. Liara would be reconstructing her Shadow Broker lines of communication, at least the ones she can safely pass through the _Denali's_ firewall systems with Glyph's help. Tali and Garrus would be poring over tech manuals and equipment specs, thinking of new ways to outfit the _Normandy_. Steve and Joker would be up talking - maybe about EDI, hopefully about that new officer, Fuentes-Bartumeu - and pissing off their bunkmate. James is the only one of us who ever goes to sleep early. I pass through our second set of guards and leave the block behind.

I mull over everything. Not just the nightmare, but the whirlwind conversations we’ve been having the last four days. Everything from the Catalyst and the end of the war to future plans and EDI’s gift - Tali and Liara’s new project. Mostly I'm just worried about Shepard. The full gravity of his confession has been sinking in deeper since he told me. And beyond the question of how he’ll come back from all of this, I wonder what life really will look like for us despite our dreams. Unspoken doubt is starting to eat at me. Not about his choice and his reasons for it or even about my commitment to him, but about the timing of everything for _us_. I'm worried I jumped the Relay by showing him the ring too soon. I'm worried that while I know we'll be alright - even if I didn't taint the moment with my timing - maybe I put too much pressure on him to get better and adjust so we could move forward. I sigh and lean up against a wall. These mental gymnastics, while exhausting in their own right, certainly aren’t going to help me get tired enough to sleep again tonight.

I’m struck by how lonely I feel. Shepard always had all of us to come to and confide in when he needed. Command obviously kept him from being completely open with any of us, including me, until the very end. But now it seems we’re past all that and I know whatever he knows. I’m grateful for that, but now I wonder who I can confide in myself. Who can I talk to _about_ Shepard now that all this has happened? The last thing I want to do is put one of our friends in an awkward position where they have to lie to him about what they do or don’t know. And I can’t tell anyone what really happened without betraying Shepard. No one on the crew - not yet, anyway. Not even Chakwas with her additional confidentiality standards. So really I’m limited to Hackett, not that he’s a friend or someone I’d consider a confidant. I didn’t serve directly under him long enough before the invasion to get close to him. We might get there eventually, but I’m sure as hell not about to barge in on him at three-thirty in the morning. So that eliminates everyone on the _Denali_. I’d have to fly someone up here -

And then I realize I’m an idiot. I leave my spot on the wall and hurry down one level to the staterooms where the only person I can talk to about anything is sleeping. I only pass a handful of shocked enlisted crew in the stairwell before I get to the line of staterooms where Hackett found room for my mom. I pass the first block of them and get to an occupied common area next to her quarters. Örjan of all people is seated there working on a portable console. They notice me and spring to their feet with a prim salute before they remember that we told them to be less formal with us. They relax a little, but still wait for me to return it. Military habits die hard.

"Örjan, I didn't expect to see you here so late - well, early, I guess."

"I’m an incurable night owl, sir," they smile. "The best work I ever did in graduate school was after midnight, and I'm still working on my doctorate."

That definitely takes me by surprise. In all the meetings Shepard and I have had with them in the last few days, it’s never once come up in conversation. “You’re kidding.”

“No, sir. It’s been my escape.”

I gape. “The galaxy’s been torn apart by war like we’ve never seen, we’re about to begin a recovery effort on a scale that’s never been attempted, and you still have the time and energy to work on a _doctorate_?”

Örjan smiles a little sheepishly. “My dissertation was halfway done before the invasion. It seemed a shame to let the work go to waste.”

"Jesus, I thought Shepard and I were dedicated to our work and here you are talking about your doctorate like it’s a casual hobby you happened to pick up. Remind me how old you are, LT?”

“Twenty-three, sir.”

_God, I feel fucking ancient_.

“I’m officially impressed. What's the topic?"

They clear their throat, but they’re interrupted by Mom’s door opening and her sticking her head out.

"Kaidan, I thought I heard you. What's wrong, are you okay? Is Shepard okay?"

Without the distraction of my conversation with Örjan, everything from my dreams rushes back and my breath hitches. "Yeah, Mom, we're both okay. Sorry it's early. I just couldn't sleep and I thought maybe we could talk?”

She catches my tone, and Örjan isn’t stupid. Their cheeks flush as their eyes flick between us and they say, “Sir, Mrs. Alenko, should I go to the commissary and bring you some tea? Or coffee, perhaps?”

"Yes, I think some tea would be good, thank you," Mom replies. I nod my thanks to Örjan and follow Mom in. She shuts the door behind us, then pulls me into a quick hug and keeps her hands tight on my arms. "Kaidan - are you alright?"

I sob once and drive the heels of my palms into my eyes to try to stop the onset of tears. "No, Mom. I'm not alright."

She nods and sighs in her _very_ distinctive maternal-nurse way, but she doesn't rush to comfort me. "It's about time you had a bit of a breakdown. So, come sit, and tell me everything that's going on with you."

She leads me over to her two chairs and sits down next to me. I don’t even know where to begin. We just sit there, her one arm around my shoulders and her other hand patting mine as tears stream down my face. She’s working her bedside manner tricks like magic.

“Can - can I ask you something about dad?”

I don’t think she was expecting that. “Of course you can, sweetheart.”

“Was he different when he came back from the First Contact War? And his tour during the first Batarian raids on the colonies?”

She takes a minute to answer. “He was, yes. You would have been a little too young to remember or have even noticed the difference.”

“All I remember is that those next few years felt harder. I don’t really even remember how long, though.”

“It was about a year and a half,” she confirms. “But time seems longer when you’re young.”

I nod slowly. “Did you worry dad wasn’t the same man you married when he got back?”

“There were certainly times when it felt like that, yes. He never had outbursts before it happened, and I know you remember some of those. Certain smells would trigger his anxiety. He never worked with your grandfather on the farming equipment ever again because the smell of the engine lubricants and fuses was too much. And for the first six months he could sometimes go up to a week without saying more than five words. That was the worst of it for the most part. All of that passed in time. With help, of course, when I finally convinced him to talk to someone. Shepard has been through a lot more than Owen did. This _is_ about Shepard, isn’t it?”

It’s rhetorical, but I nod anyway. “I’m scared for him,” I whisper. “I’m scared for us with everything that happened. It’s just so much bigger than the two of us.”

Her arm wrapped around my shoulders squeezes tighter and releases. “Why don’t you tell me everything. Everything that you can, anyway. And you know it stays between us; I won’t tell Shepard we talked unless you want me to.”

“A lot of this is going to come out in the next few weeks. After the invasion he - had to make certain choices,” I say carefully. “While Anderson was fighting on Earth and Hackett was leading the space campaigns, it fell on him to bring the coalition of species together. He had to do it alone, really. I wasn’t even there for half of it. We helped however we could, but it was all on him. And we lost people in the process. Good friends who didn’t deserve such bad ends. He blames himself for their deaths regardless of whether or not they were even remotely his fault. And then in the last battle - well, the burden of the outcome fell squarely on him again. He was alone in it, and I think it broke him. I just - God, I just don’t know where to go from here.”

“I knew more happened than what you told me. There’s always more.”

“Mom, you know I can’t tell you everything.”

“You can tell me how badly you were hurt.”

I hang my head and stare at my hands. The door buzzes and she gets up to answer it. Örjan hands off a tray with our tea and promises they’re just down the hall if we need anything else. She thanks them and brings everything over to us. She pours cups for us and forces one into my hands.

“Drink. You’ll feel better.”

“Thank you,” I say lamely.

“I’m not mad you didn’t tell me before. I understand some things are classified, and I also understand there are some things you may never _want_ to tell me and that’s okay. Your father didn’t tell me everything that happened to him, either, at least not for a long time. It wasn’t until after you’d already left for Jump Zero that he told me more. But I don’t want us to do that, Kaidan. Please just tell me what you can. I promise I can handle it.”

I nod. “Alright, I almost died in the final push. I had to be evaced on the _Normandy_ and say goodbye to Shepard. When the Crucible fired, the fleets had to retreat through Charon and I had to leave him behind. We had to leave him; and I was in a coma for all of it. Shepard finished our mission _alone_ \- completely by himself - injured, afraid, and dying. The Relays were damaged in the blast and the _Normandy_ crash landed. It took us over a week to even get our comms back online to find out what happened to him. It took him almost dying _again_ to beat the Reapers. What does that do to a man? How does someone even begin to cope with that? And I know it’s selfish, but how do _I_ even begin to cope with that myself, let alone help him?”

She still has her nurse face on, but I can see the pain behind her eyes. She looks down at her cup. “Maybe I should have ordered us coffee. It’s harder to pair tea with whisky.”

“Jesus, Mom…” I bark laughter.

“How do you think nurses and doctors get through the toughest days? Soldiers, too, for that matter. Not the healthiest coping mechanism but still, the occasional drink doesn’t hurt.”

“And that’s going to help me here?”

She pours us another cup, and then she goes over to the closet and brings out a bottle. “Yes.”

I can’t help but laugh again and I hold out my cup. She pours a dram in each and then replaces the bottle. “I was going to save it as a gift for you two, but I think it’s better served for medicinal purposes. Now, do you need to keep talking and just have me listen, or do you want me to listen more and then give you some advice? And there has to be a reason we’re having this conversation at four in the morning.”

I take a sip and grimace. Definitely not a good pairing. “I had a nightmare.” I feel like I’m seven again, crawling into my parents’ bed after having a bad dream - obviously sans whisky.

“What about?”

“Shepard. The Reapers. Vyrnnus. It was - a lot.”

“Tell me.”

“There were three sequences,” I start. They’re already getting jumbled together. “The first one, I think, was here on the _Denali_. We were being attacked - by the Reapers, I guess - and I couldn’t get to Shepard. And then, um, Jump Zero. Yeah, I was back there and Vrynnus was attacking me. He was telling me I was worthless? An embarrassment? Things like that. Provoking me and kicking me like he did. But this time I had my full training and powers I do now. I killed him, but he ended up being Shepard somehow. I was scared I’d attacked him in real life. You remember how sometimes my biotics would flare when I was asleep. And then - something. A parade, maybe? There were troops lined up and they pointed me to Shepard. He said, shit, what was it?”

I take another sip, searching through the fog until it comes back to me. “Right, he was standing on the edge of a cliff and he told me to leave him. No, he told me to let him go, that there wasn’t any hope for him. And a Reaper showed up right behind him. The Reaper - Sovereign, it was Sovereign, the one we fought at the Citadel - told me I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t fight. I couldn’t do anything except scream back. And then - Shepard went over the cliff and I jumped after him. That’s when I woke up.”

“That is a lot. Should we break it down like we used to?”

I have to fight off fresh tears. I’m so grateful she made it through. I can’t do anything except nod.

“Alright, the first part on the _Denali_ sounds easy enough, right? You’ve been worried about the Reapers for almost four years and fear like that conditions the mind. It doesn’t just go away because they did.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” I nod.

“And it makes sense that you’re still protective of Shepard after everything you’ve both been through. But that makes the Vyrnnus part stranger, doesn’t it?”

“I guess some of it’s because I’m getting nervous about the plans for the school,” I confess. “I just don’t want it to go wrong like Jump Zero did.”

“I don’t think it will,” she tells me and pats my knee. “But that was also your first trauma, and things like that never disappear entirely. Wounds heal, but scars remain. You’ve done an amazing job of pushing it down, though. It’s been a long time since you’ve had that dream.”

I nod again, and she continues. “I’ll admit it’s weird as hell that he turned into Shepard. Why do you think that might have happened?”

“I have no idea. It feels so wrong that the being I hated the most turned into the man I love the most.”

She looks at me for a second and her brow furrows just a little. “You said Shepard had to make some really hard decisions to make sure we won. I gathered as much from spending time with your crew, but I also won’t pretend to know exactly what everyone was talking about or hinting at. You don’t need to say anything else about it. I can’t imagine you hate him for any of it, but are you maybe angry with him for those choices? Or scared because of them? ”

I think about this for a minute and look away. _Am_ I angry he destroyed the Reapers at the expense of the geth and EDI? Do I hate him for it? I shake my head and answer. “No, I don’t hate him for any of it. He was put in those positions; he never asked to have to make those decisions. It’s shit. He had to make awful decisions, but never anything out of malice. He wasn’t perfect before, none of us are, but this - ” I run my fingers through my hair and practically yank it out when I bring my hand back down. “This fucking war. It’s made him - I don’t know.”

“You’re worried it’s all changed him?”

“He seems the same,” I say. “But no; not entirely. And that’s what I’m trying to figure out. Is he still the man I fell in love with? Or are we lying to ourselves now?”

Mom sets her cup down on the table and turns me toward her. “Kaidan, I want you to get that last thought out of your head forever. I’ve seen the two of you together. You’re both caring and nurturing and funny and _good_ to each other. No one in the universe can fake that sort of thing. I’ve seen plenty of couples try when one of them is sick or dying. I can always tell the liars from the genuine ones, and you two aren’t fooling anybody. And _of course_ he isn’t the same man you fell in love with.”

I cough on a sip. “What?”

She holds up a hand. “Kaidan, you’re not the same man _he_ fell in love with, either. No one goes through life staying the exact same person, and if you do then something isn’t right. That’s true even under the best of circumstances which you two certainly haven’t been living.”

I laugh again despite myself. “Yeah, it has been pretty hellish.”

She nudges me a little. “ _And_ it hopefully means that you two don’t have anywhere to go but up. It’s kind of hard to imagine things ever getting worse than they’ve been.”

“Well, now we’re screwed because you just jinxed it.”

She holds her hands up in apology. “No, anything but that! Do I need to go outside, spin three times, spit and curse?”

“If we were planetside, yes,” I snort. “But since you’re on a ship and a civilian, just - don’t say things like that.”

“Noted.”

“Thanks. So, what else with these dreams?” I ask.

She shifts on her chair, and sighs. “You said it felt wrong that that bastard Vyrnnus and Shepard should be so closely linked in your dream. Fear and love are the two strongest emotions any of us ever feels. Maybe it’s good that you’re afraid for Shepard. It means you’ll work hard to protect him, but you need to be careful that you don’t end up smothering him either. And maybe - I’m only suggesting this because of what you’ve told me - maybe it means you need to kill off an old idea of him?”

“You mean because everything changed us whether we wanted it to or not? That the old Shepard is gone?”

“That’s one way of looking at it, if a little bleak and harsh-sounding,” she nods. “The old Shepard may be gone because of the things you’ve both been through, but it seems enough of him made it through that you both still love each other. Does that make sense?”

I nod and she continues. “Now this last sequence is worse, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it scares me the most. I guess I can tell you - I guess I _need_ to tell you that something else happened to him. He’s fine now, I mean, all things considered, but I don’t want him to know I told you.”

“Not a word.”

I nod. “You've seen his charts and he told you how they had to yank his implants? It wasn't just a precaution; there’s another reason. The Reapers attacked his mind. One of their AIs sort of… _infested_ his neural implants. It wasn't Indoctrination per se, but it was powerful enough to start affecting his physiology. It tried to take over and make Shepard kill himself.”

“Holy shit.”

“Uh huh. The only way to stop it was to take all of them out. He’s got some of his non-neural ones left, but he doesn’t want any of the neural ones replaced in case it somehow trips something latent in his brain and something else happens.”

"That didn't happen to you, did it?"

"No, no. It was a unique situation that happened because of his close proximity to them. I can't say any more than that."

"That's alright,” she says. “So, if his neural implants are gone, what does that mean for him in terms of being in the Alliance or being a Spectre?"

I release a shuddering breath. "He's pretty sure all of that's over. Or at the very least it's going to have to be radically different."

"And has he expressed any deep remorse or depression about that?"

I shake my head. "No, the opposite. I think he may actually be relieved right now. I don't know how long that will hold, but it’s there."

"And what else has he said about the future?"

"That he wants to be with me, go where I go. Maybe help with the school. We won't really know until High Command hands down new orders or the Summit happens."

“So it’s still a waiting game right now. And I imagine all of that will be dependent on his recovery no matter what.” I nod and she takes my hands again. “Sweetheart, if it’s any comfort and I hope it is, I seriously doubt he’s a suicide risk.”

"No?” I whisper. “Then why am I so afraid of it?"

"Because you love him and understand his pain."

“That’s just it though - I don’t know that I _do_ understand it. Not really.”

"Kaidan, if anyone does, it has to be you because you walked through so much of it with him. But let’s set all of that aside for a moment and look at everything he's done the last - how long has it been since I got here?"

"You got here on the twenty-fourth and now it's the twenty-eighth."

"Alright, so a little less than a week. You know I've never been able to turn off my nursing side, so can I tell you what I've seen since I got here?"

“Mom, why do you even ask?”

She flares her fingers up to placate me. “I know, I know. I should just tell you and not be so nice about asking. Here’s what I’ve seen: Shepard hasn’t been driving any of you away; he’s not isolating himself; he’s looking to the future both in his career and his personal life. Even in his recovery, you two have been working on new projects almost all day every day since Boxing Day. Whatever those things are, you're making plans for the future _together_. He brought me up here just so he could meet me and so we could spend the holiday together as a family - his words, not mine. He told me he’s planning - well, I’m not supposed to say anything about the rest of _that_.”

I grin and roll my eyes. “He ratted me out and told you I already have a ring, didn’t he?”

“No, actually, but you just confirmed my suspicions,” she grins back.

“I can’t win with either of you,” I groan even though we both know I’m pleased.

“Against a mother’s intuition? Never,” she laughs and hugs me. “Kaidan, I am so happy for you. And Shepard’s happy with you. Now, I’m not saying you should just brush off any of your concerns or his. They’re all valid, and frankly you both need someone to talk with and process everything you’ve been through. I’ve seen Alliance soldiers develop PTSD symptoms months after the fact, seemingly out of the blue. I’ve known others from the same companies who went through the same hells who _never_ displayed any symptoms at all. Unfortunately, the worst of it may not hit for a long time until whenever things finally slow down. There’s just no way of knowing.

“That said, being watchful for these things is good, but it shouldn’t paralyze you with fear now. Worrying about it won’t do either of you any good, and I know telling someone not to worry about the person they love sounds ridiculous. After your father recovered, it took us a while to find a new normal. It wasn’t easy by any means, but our relationship got deeper as we healed both separately and together. You and Shepard have been through much worse, but I truly believe you’ll both be alright. Shepard’s in it for the long haul with you. And he’s not looking ahead to some hypothetical distant future. Everything he’s doing and everything you’re planning together is for right now, the _immediate_ future. No one makes plans like that unless they’re planning on being around to see them happen.”

She’s right. Of course she is. I let my insecurities and fears get the better of me and couldn’t get out of my own head. I’m so glad Shepard brought her here and I’m so glad I came to talk to her.

She snaps her fingers right in front of my face. “Hey, stop it, Kaidy. Stop overthinking; you haven’t messed this up.”

“That is absolutely not what I was thinking about.”

“Oh, please. Haven’t I seen that look on your face a million times?”

“For your information, _all-wise and all-knowing Mother_ ,” I roll my eyes and smile again, throwing out an inside joke from one particularly ridiculous argument we had when I was eleven and getting a soft laugh in response. “I was actually thinking about how grateful I am that Shepard brought you here and how glad I am that I woke you up so we could talk about all of this.”

I kiss her cheek and hug her. She strokes my hair lightly as only a mother can. “You’re sweet, Kaidan. Thank you. And you were still overthinking.”

I break off the hug and laugh. “I was not! I was _thinking_ at most.”

“Of course, sweetheart. Tell yourself that if it makes you feel better.”

“Wow,” I say with mock indignation. “Remind me when you’re leaving, again?”

“I do need to go back soon, actually. The war might be over, but the camp clinic is still getting new arrivals every day.”

“Tell Shepard what they need. He’ll get you anything.”

She looks at me then down at her cup and then around the room. “Every camp on the planet needs the same things, Kaidan. Food, medicine, fuel cells, shelter. The sheer size of civilian displacement out of the cities means more rural areas can’t even begin to cope with the need. And I’m sure our colonies are faring even worse. I already feel guilty enough about having stayed up here so long. Admiral Hackett was very kind to allow me to assist in the medical wards here. Or very desperate.”

“Definitely both, mom, and you haven’t been a burden on anyone,” I assure her. “You were supposed to be a guest and you ended up working. I’d say that’s earned your upkeep here. And these quarters are a hell of a lot nicer than ours.”

“They are. But I’m also starting to miss my team down on Earth, though. I’m sure you understand that.”

I nod. “Yeah, I really do. I hope Hackett will let us - ” I’m interrupted by my omnitool beeping in a new message and I open it. “Well, speak of the devil. It looks like Hackett has worse sleep habits than we do. High Command has scheduled a bunch of business for me and Shepard in the next few days. Looks like a really important meeting for him this morning, and, yep, there it is - an award ceremony for the crew of the _Normandy_ on the thirty-first which Hackett notes will be ‘the first of so many we’ll start to hate it.’ I guess that means they’re making pretty quick progress on reestablishing lines of communication with the Council worlds and colonies. No way they’re not broadcasting that everywhere. Will you at least stay until the first, then? I’d hate for you to miss the ceremony and whatever party is happening after.”

“Of course I will! But if it’s going to be anything like your Christmas party, I don’t think I’ll be able to keep up with you kids.” She laughs and then a conspiratorial look settles on her face. “Kaidan, I’ve just had an idea! If that award ceremony is going to be as big as you think it will be to boost everyone’s morale, what if news broke the next day that you’d proposed afterwards?”

“ _That’s_ a statement,” I breathe. “Yeah, that would definitely be something pretty momentous. And fast. So I take it you don’t think we should give everything more time before jumping in?”

She shrugs. "You're both soldiers. And hardly the first to get married before the dust settles. I'm almost surprised you didn't elope before the end of the war. Now that it _is_ over, obviously make sure he’s in a good headspace for it. If you two talk more before then and you think he wants to wait, then listen to that. But it also sounds like your Boxing Day ‘conversation’ went pretty well.”

“Really, mom? Air quotes? I don’t know what Garrus told you but whatever it is, Shepard and I _did_ talk - for a really long time. That’s what brought all of this on. We got everything out in the open, all our regrets and pain, and started working through everything while figuring out how to move forward and fix whatever we still can.”

“Then I personally think you’re both as ready as you’ll ever be to get married. You both see the hard work ahead and you’re not shying away from it. And not that you need it and not that you don’t already know it, but you have my blessing. I’ve been hoping this would happen since the first time you told me about him.” She kisses my forehead and hugs me again.

“Thanks, mom. I love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart. Are you alright now?”

“Yeah, I am,” I say, breaking away and wiping at my nose and eyes with my sleeve. “Thanks for listening and helping with everything.”

“You’re welcome. Oh, my, it’s almost five now.”

“Reverie is in an hour and a half,” I say. “Will you be able to get back to sleep?”

“With how excited I am for you? Not a chance. But you should get back to Shepard. He’ll be missing you, I imagine. Your dad and I always did when one of us had to leave early even if we didn’t wake the other up.”

She walks me to the door and I give her another hug and a kiss. “I’ll see you at breakfast?”

“Sure, sweetheart. Goodnight, whatever’s left of it.”

I leave her room and nod to Örjan who’s starting to pack up their datapad and displays. “Calling it a night after that schedule change?”

“Yes, sir, the dissertation will have to wait and sleep however long I can. I’ve been switched from second shift to first, but I’ll make do.”

“Love when that happens. You’re up in general quarters, yeah?” I ask and they nod. “I’ll walk you. Tell me about the dissertation on the way. What’s the topic?”

"In summary, the sociocultural influences of early twenty-first century popular science fiction on twenty-second century First Contact scenarios, with an emphasis on Alliance intergalactic politics."

“Vintage sci-fi has always been a guilty pleasure of mine. The real-life politics not so much, but I can deal with them alright. What spurred on that topic?”

“Call it a love for political science, sociology, and military history coupled with being the galaxy’s biggest geek, sir.” They sling their bag over their shoulder and fall in step with me.”

“That’s an incredible combination,” I laugh. “Is that one of the reasons Hackett brought you on to his staff?”

“Admiral Hackett brought me on as a packaged set with my senior advisor, an asari Matriarch professor of mine from Oxford who specialized in xenoanthropology and political science. She was originally appointed by the Council as a liaison between the Alliance and turian militaries after the First Contact War. We were evacuated from England on the Admiral’s orders to assist him with maintaining galactic relations. She was killed in the final battle when she went planetside to help defend London.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. It says a lot that Hackett kept you on after.”

“I guess it means I'm of some use to him.”

“I think it means you have an eye and mind for untold levels of detail many would call extraneous.”

“Yes, that’s a criticism I’ve heard a number of times, sir,” they say.

“Well, I definitely meant it as a praise,” I chuckle. “That kind of study means you can make connections between multiple fields and seemingly unrelated topics. So tell me - from all your research on that media where first contact scenarios usually don’t go well and now being able to compare our contact with the turians and the Reapers, how much of the dissertation will need to be altered? I’d think a lot of your research and thesis statements have changed recently.”

“Certainly. The foundational material stays the same, but I’m going to add at least another thirty percent just in personal testimonies to bolster some of my main points. It’s going to replace a section I had planned on the hypothetical of the Reapers being real.”

That stops me dead in my tracks. “Say that part again?”

"After the Battle of the Citadel, my professors and I believed all the evidence Commander Shepard presented to the Council and at the Alliance inquiry afterwards must be true given our knowledge of the Protheans and Sovereign’s presence. We were there, sir, in Vancouver - and we couldn’t believe that he was being ignored after everything.”

“Yeah, funny how a Reaper perching itself on the Citadel Tower wasn’t enough to convince people,” I mutter, taking up our path again.

“Indeed, and that’s where the popular perceptions come into play. We did try to convince our various military contacts and political associates to take it more seriously. Most of my advisory board were censured in some form, but we did what we could.”

“Talk about vindication in the worst way,” I snort. “Stil, I love the idea of rogue academics.”

“Yes, sir,” they smile. “I still haven't been able to contact half of them to see if I’m still on the right path, but Doctor T'Soni has been most helpful. However, if I can write the first doctorate in a post-Reaper Milky Way, I don't imagine I'll have many issues defending my findings."

“I believe it.” We’re nearing the crew’s hallway now so we stop in a small alcove. “So, now that we’re on the other side of the war and given the stories and histories you’ve studied, what do you think comes next?”

They pause for a minute and then surprise me with their answer. “I don’t know, sir. Most of those stories ended with a final explosion where the enemies were destroyed. They rarely delved into the politics or timeline of rebuilding and restructuring.”

“What, no lengthy epilogues longer than the original stories with all the tedious details from thousands of committee meetings giving perfect blueprints for the future?”

Örjan chuckles softly. “Unfortunately, no. Just a lot of theories and hypotheticals. Perhaps the occasional reference to trade route treaties. There are things we can draw from, but they’re not an adequate substitute for creative diplomacy.”

“‘Creative diplomacy’. I like that. We’re certainly going to need a lot of that if we’re going to - ”

A new thought stops me cold. Something finally clicks.

_Fucking hell, there are_ way _too many things happening right now. How did I miss this?_

“Commander?” they ask tentatively.

I run my fingers through my hair and look over at them. They’re standing straighter, stiffer, like they know they’ve been caught in a misstep. Like I said, they’re not stupid.

“It’s not a coincidence you happen to be on Admiral Hackett’s personal staff despite your lower rank and being in the middle of your studies, is it?”

They shake their head. “No, sir.”

“And it wasn’t for Commander Shepard’s personal convenience that the Admiral assigned you to him the second he had recovered enough to think straight again.”

Again, a simple shake of their head, but their demeanor has changed again. They’ve seen this moment play out like a script, totally anticipated at some point but maybe not during a chance meeting at 0500.

“Hackett has something planned - something big - and you’re here to help Shepard figure it out.”

“Yes, sir, that was Admiral Hackett’s intent.”

I sigh heavily, rubbing my forehead. _Not this, anything but this. Not after everything_.

“These meetings he’s set up for Shepard with High Command - are they going to ask him today?” I ask.

Örjan’s composure hardens again. Barely noticeable, but it’s there. I’ve hit right on whatever arrangement they and Hackett have without having to say the words. Still, Örjan is afraid of betraying his confidence. They’re a damn sharp LT. With a shrewd mind behind an unassuming demeanor. And discreet.

They’ll be perfect for Shepard’s staff, whatever that ends up looking like.

“Commander Alenko, may I have permission to speak freely?” I nod my assent, and Örjan continues. “You’ve asked me several rhetorical questions, the answers to which you already know even if you haven’t vocalized them to me or even yourself yet.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Sir, if I may be frank - and I must be, for Commander Shepard’s sake - then I feel it is my duty to tell you that in your understandable elation you’ve both neglected the wider galactic implications of the Commander’s survival. I wouldn’t be so bold as to presume you haven’t at least considered the possibility of Commander Shepard assuming a wholly political role in the recovery efforts. However, forgive me, sir, I do doubt that either of you have considered it _seriously_.”

“Do we need to run a security scan on our omnitools?” I ask. The corner of Örjan’s lip quirks up and returns to a thin line just as quickly. It’s a nice diplomatic trick.

“No, sir. But if I’ve struck near enough to the truth, may I continue?”

I wave my hand in a small circle. “Let’s lay it out there. Shepard’s going to have to choose between his Spectre status, his commission as an Alliance officer, and tackling the world of civilian politics. And High Command is going to drop the mother of all requests on him.”

“Several scenarios have been discussed, yes,” Örjan confirms. “Commander Shepard will have a role to play on the galactic stage, a choice between many difficult options - all of which will have drastic effects on how the galaxy’s recovery is planned and enacted. Even retiring from any active military commitments and declining to take on civilian leadership will affect the direction of the future. Admiral Hackett has personally ordered me to help the Commander navigate this choice and prepare for any number of eventualities.”

I stare coldly at them. “Even if Shepard does decide to tell everyone to fuck off and ride into the sunset?”

“Absolutely, sir.”

Örjan’s response is immediate. Despite the firmness they’ve maintained this whole conversation and the intentional harshness of my question, there’s an unmistakable flash of warmth in their eyes. And I believe them. Whatever their personal opinions on what Shepard should do - or whatever outcome Hackett may have tried to get them to push for - they seem to genuinely care about Shepard’s wellbeing. Or I’ve completely lost my ability to read people and Shepard and I should get out of this game before it gains critical mass and we can’t stop the momentum.

I sigh again and put my hand on Örjan’s shoulder. “Do me a favor, LT. Hit your rack hard and stay there as long as you possibly can. We need you as sharp as possible for a meeting before he gets thrown into the thick of it. I’ll have him meet you half an hour beforehand.”

“Aye aye, Commander. I’ll make note of it and see if Admiral Hackett can join us.”

We part, Örjan taking one junction and me continuing on. As soon as they’re out of sight and no other officers are around, I step into another alcove and kick the bulkhead. I curse all of High Command under my breath for playing these games with Shepard when he’s barely back on his feet. I let myself fume for another minute before leaving.

Once I get back to our hall, our guards salute me when I turn the corner and I open our door.

"Morning, Kay."

" _Shit_ , Shepard, you scared me! I wasn't expecting you to be up yet," I say in surprise. “You okay?”

He’s wrapped in a blanket on our couch. He opens one arm out so I kick off my boots and join him, tugging the blanket around my shoulders and taking his hand between us.

“I’m alright. What about you?”

“Couldn’t sleep. I didn’t want to wake you, so I went for a walk. Talked with Mom for a while and then got into some things with Örjan since I ran into them, too. I wanted to be back sooner so you wouldn’t wake up alone since I got on your case that one time about not waking me.”

Shepard huffs a little. “Thanks for at least leaving the note. Did better than me on that front. Of course, when I woke up my damn leg started hurting so I got to thinking about everything. Then Hackett’s message came through and I _really_ couldn’t get back to sleep.” He sighs and looks up at me. “You saw our schedule?”

I nod slowly, trying to work through the fog to figure a way out of the inevitable. But if he’s meeting with High Command first thing this morning…

“Kay?”

“Sorry. It’s just - this is it, huh?”

Now Shepard nods against me. “Yeah, I think so. I’m on my feet - more or less. You’re here; we’ve talked; Hackett’s going to ask if I’m resigning my commission. I can’t hold off the conversation any longer”

“Any new insights?”

He sighs deep in his chest. The sound of pure exhaustion breaks my heart. “No. I don’t think I’ll know until I’m there. It depends on what they offer. And there’s still so much to do.”

His answer doesn’t make me feel any better.

“There’s no shame in telling them no,” I whisper. “Not after everything you’ve already done. There are plenty of other people who can take the lead now. You’re still recovering.”

“And after I’m recovered? I won’t be in convalescence forever, and the galaxy still - ”

“You figured out why Hackett really assigned Eriksson to you, right?” I interrupt. “What they’re supposed to be helping you decide?”

Shepard doesn’t answer, not with words anyway. He starts to tremble. He pulls our interlocked hands closer to his chest. When my fingers rest against his bare skin, I can feel how clammy it is and how fast his heart is racing.

“Yeah, Kay, and I’m trying not to think about that part yet. It’s just too much to wrap my head around. Eriksson’s good. They’ve done a good job keeping all of that in the background, but Hackett can only afford so much subtly. And he needs help. The man’s got the entire Alliance on his shoulders right now.”

“It’s about time someone else pulled their damn weight.”

The trembling stops as Shepard lets out a low chuckle. “Yeah, he really slacked off during the war, huh?”

“I’ll say.”

He laughs quietly again and reaches over. His fingers trace along my jaw from my ear to my chin and then he pulls me into a soft kiss. Then he pulls back and searches my eyes. “Is that - were you drinking whisky? What's going on?”

I straighten up a little so I can turn toward him. “I had a bad dream is all. I needed to walk it off and ended up talking with Mom for a while. She gave me something to drink to help calm me down. But I'm alright, really. I left because I didn't want to wake you up with my tossing and turning.”

Shepard’s brow furls. He likes to make fun of my expressive eyebrows, but he has no idea that his default thinking expression is a straight-up scowl. “I thought crippling nightmares were my thing. Tell me about it?”

“You’re not... going anywhere, right?” I whisper and he tilts his head.

“What do you mean?”

I swallow hard. “With everything that’s happened - you’re not going to hurt yourself, are you?”

Shepard gasps. “Fuck, Kaidan, is that what you dreamed about?” I nod and he leans back. His jaw clenches and his eyes flick away before recapturing mine. “Shit, no wonder you couldn’t get back to sleep.”

“Shepard, I know you still feel so guilty about the Crucible - ”

He stops me by clenching my hand tighter. “Kaidan, you don’t need to worry about me. You don’t need to worry about _that_ happening.”

“It scares me more than anything else ever has.” And it does. “Other soldiers have killed themselves over less.”

“Look,” he says and chokes up. “I’ll live with it for the rest of my life, I know that, but I’m planning on that being a long time, okay? The Catalyst is dead. My mind is my own, and I’m never risking implants again just to be sure. We’ve been through too much. We’ve come too damn far to let anything take what we have now away from us. And you know how stubborn I am; I’d never let them win like that.”

I laugh a little. “That’s true. I can’t believe I forgot to factor in your hardheadedness.” Shepard wraps a hand around the back of my head and holds tight.

“And you forgot that I have you.”

That makes me cry.

“Kay, I love you so much, and even more because you’re worried for me. I promise you that I will always be open and talk to you about this stuff. If I’m having a bad day, you’ll be the first to know. And if there are days when it’s too much for me or too much for both of us, we’ve got Hackett and Chakwas to talk to. I haven’t told her everything, but she knows enough that she’s watching out for me, too. She’s also starting me on some meds to start heading off the depression. Between those meds and the work that we’re starting up, I am actually feeling better and more hopeful. So I need you to know that I’m sticking around, alright? I swear I’m not going anywhere.”

I nod against his forehead and reach up to cup his cheek. “And you’ll tell me if that ever - ”

His grip gets tighter. “ _It’s not going to happen_ , _Kaidan_. I swear I’ll always tell you when I’m having a hard time. Do you trust me to do that?”

“Yeah, Shepard. I trust you.”

“Alright, Kay. It’s alright,” he sighs and then pulls me into a full, intense embrace. We stay that way for a long time.

He's getting stronger. He's still a little too thin, but I can feel the change in his entire demeanor. Even without his implants, he'll still be a formidable soldier his whole life. That old fire of determination is still there, except now it's more of a steady intense heat than a crackling flame. And he's right - knowing what we do now about EDI and Legion, having something bigger than ourselves to work toward is doing wonders for his recovery and outlook.

"So, was that all of it?" he asks, breaking the silence and loosening up our hug.

"No, but that was the worst of it. I also dreamed of Vyrnnus and the day I killed him." I leave it at that. No reason to confuse Shepard when I don't even know what to make of it.

"What's that about, do you think?"

"Mom thinks it's just anxiety and old traumas flaring up since I'm planning the school. Yeah, I don't know, it's probably that and my mind trying to remind me of some time I was in control and felt powerful. Honestly, it's not doing a great job."

Shepard snorts. "We're a pair, aren't we? Think we'll ever work through all of our shit?"

I laugh and start to say, "Shep, there's not a counselor in the galaxy who - "

There’s a commotion out in the hall. Hushed, worried voices rise and fade almost as fast. People rushing down the hall past our room and trying to stay quiet.

“What’s that about?” Shepard asks.

“Stay here. Let me check.”

I rush to the door and key the controls, biotics primed in case I need to throw up a Barrier or attack something. I check each direction as best I can and step out. One of the guards is a few feet away, pacing and speaking into his omnitool in a clipped tone. Something’s wrong. The other is at the end of the hall talking with Tali, and she starts towards me.

_Something’s wrong._

“We were just coming to get you. ”

I turn and find Liara. She’s still in a sleeping tunic and her face is blank with shock.

“What was all - ” I ask.

“Kaidan, it’s Joker.”

My throat closes up. “What about him?”

“James, Steve, and Garrus just rushed him to the medbay. They think - Kaidan, he may have tried to commit suicide.”

“Oh, God. _Fuck_ , why didn’t anyone get us?”

“It _just_ happened. Garrus told us Steve came in just started yelling for them. He said Joker was barely breathing, so James just picked him up and ran. Goddess, I barely got out into the hall by the time they were gone.”

“Is he dead?” I croak. She doesn’t answer. “ _Liara_ , is Joker - ”

“Kaidan?”

I squeeze my eyes shut and turn. Shepard’s standing in the doorway.

“Shepard. We need to go to the medbay,” I tell him.

His face drains and he starts to shake. He looks past me to Liara.

“You need to go,” Liara echoes. “We’ll tell everyone else and meet you there.”

I hate myself when my next thought isn’t whether or not Joker’s okay but rather if this is what’s going to push Shepard over the edge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooo..... yeah. I'm sorry about Joker. I really, really am. He's always been my favorite NPC, and I struggled hard with the first draft of the story because I wasn't sure how to handle his grief. Everything in me screamed against sacrificing him for the sake of the story, but my muses fought hard against the idea of not treating his grief and sorrow as real - and against Shepard's actions not having major repercussions for the crew.
> 
> Yeah, you should just go ahead and move on to Shepard 4, Pt.1 now to see that he's (relatively) alright.
> 
> Many thanks, as always, to my betas who helped me wade through the complexities of depicting these heavy mental health chapters (they also threatened to quit and go Liam Neeson on me if I killed off Joker).


	16. Shepard 4, Pt. 1 - When Jokers Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disaster strikes at the heart of the _Normandy's_ crew. After Joker is rushed to the medbay, Shepard is terrified that he's finally up against a fight he can't win. And while he waits for news of his helmsman and friend, the weight of his decision with the Crucible wars against his responsibilities for the future of the galaxy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **TW/CW: Mentions of suicide, ideation, and attempts**  
>  _  
>  *****No major character deaths*****  
> _  
>  This four chapter arc - Kaidan 5; Shepard 4, Pt. 1; Joker 3; and Shepard 4, Pt 2 - are _heavy_ on the post-war grief and major depression. Again, there are _no major character deaths_ , but the warning stands - especially during Year Two of Pandemic. I want y'all to be taking care of yourselves first and foremost, which is why I haven't posted any of these chapters on their own because the first two end on cliffhangers. So if these are topics that hit hard, I highly recommend reading these first two (Kaidan 5 and Shepard 4, Pt. 1) together when you have time. The other two chapters will be posted in the next week or so.
> 
> I promise everyone comes out the other side of the arc alive and healthy, but the story is not kind to Joker or Shepard for the next few chapters.

~~~

“Kaidan, I did this.”

“Bullshit,” he tells me for probably the fifth time since we left our room. I’m hobbling along with my crutch and him supporting me. I’m in this idiotic position because I insisted we leave the damn wheelchair back at my hospital room to force myself to move more under my own power.

“We waited too long to tell him what we know.” We’re forced to argue in generalities. We have to pass through three main corridors before we get to the medbay wing, and they’re packed even after the initial post-reverie rush has died down.

“No, Shepard. We’ve barely even known three days, and we agreed that Tali and Liara needed to confirm that E - that the plan was even theoretically possible. Giving him false hope would have been so much worse - ”

“Kaidan, he needed me and I wasn’t there for him - argh, dammit!” I take a bad step and almost go down. Kaidan catches me by the shoulders.

“Shepard - _slow_ \- _down_ ,” Kaidan hisses. “You’re not doing anyone any favors by getting yourself hurt rushing.” His omnitool goes off and he answers it furiously while I lean against a bulkhead trying to catch my breath. “Yeah, Garrus, we’re on our way! What’s happening? Is he stable?”

_“We don’t know, Kaidan. Chakwas is in with him but nobody’s told us anything yet. No one understands - he was fine at the club last night.”_ Garrus’s voice is scared. And angry. My own emotions barely register as anything beyond shame and panic.

“Just stay there, Garrus, and keep this as quiet as you can. We don’t need this getting out. We’ll be there soon. Out.” He comes back over to me. “I’m calling for T’Miri or Taejor, someone to send for you so we can get there faster.”

I shake my head and grab onto his shoulder to hoist myself back up straight. “Just get me there, Kaidan. It’s only five more minutes.”

“Then you have five minutes to get it into your head that whatever happened isn’t because of the last few days,” he grunts as he pulls more of my weight onto him. He’s practically side-carrying me on his hip at this point. “And remember what we agreed to - you’re not telling him everything unless I give the go-ahead.”

“Hasn’t this gone beyond that?” We get to a row of lifts and Kaidan punches the button to get us down into the medbay itself.

“No, Shepard. We need to get his story first. We need to know exactly what’s going on before we can tell him anything. We could make it worse.”

“And what if the problem’s that he knows we’ve been lying to him?”

“Then we’ll figure it out, Shepard. Dammit, where’s the lift?” His fist flares blue for the briefest second but he doesn’t hit the control panel. The doors open, and he shoves us through an indignant group of confused non-coms. “Out!” he roars when they don’t move quick enough.

We get down to the medbay, but we’re still in the wrong part. “Stay here,” Kaidan tells me, and I lean against yet another wall while he unceremoniously hops a counter in front of an entire nursing staff and lifts a wheelchair back over. Their feeble protests go silent when they recognize us, and they suddenly become much more engrossed in their charts.

“I said I was fine,” I argue as he lowers me into it.

“Tell that to my back, Shepard. It’s either this or I Lift you down the hall.”

I think command may finally be going to his head a little bit. 

He speeds us down the main corridor, occasionally using his biotics to push obstacles out of our way. I’m not in any mood to admit that this is a much better mode of transportation. We pass by at least four of my own doctors who try to keep up with us before I’m able to reassure them that I’m fine. We finally find Garrus.

“Shepard, are you alright?”

“I’m - what? I’m fine. Where is everyone?” I ask.

“Emergency ward. Down this way.”

Garrus brings us into a small waiting room. James and Steve are inside, and they both look terrible.

“Hey, Commanders,” James says quietly. I’ve never seen him look so subdued and scared.

“What happened?” I demand. None of them answers at first. As a rule I never yell outright at any of my crew, but I’m dangerously on the edge of breaking it right now.

Steve steps forward. “We were all out at the officers’ club for our night off, Commander. Joker left first because he said he was tired and wasn't feeling well. James was still there when I left with - ” Steve clears his throat and blushes. “Sorry, sir, when I left with someone and I lost track of time after that.”

“Yeah, and I left about an hour later with everyone else, sir.” James says.

“And everything was fine when you got back?” Kaidan asks and James nods.

“Yes, sir, far as I could tell. He looked like he was already asleep, and I crashed hard once I hit my bunk.”

“When I came in this morning something felt off,” Steve continues. “I looked in on Joker and his breathing was labored. I don’t really know how to describe it medically. He was wheezing like he’d just run a marathon or something, but it was also irregular and sometimes really shallow. I tried to wake him up and he wouldn’t, so I called for James and Garrus.”

“I hit the lights, Loc- Commander, and that’s when we saw the pill on the floor,” James says.

“Pills?” Kaidan asks. “What kind of pills? How many?”

“Small, red, just one of them. And an empty container. It looked like a sleeping pill. We gave it to Chakwas,” Steve answers. 

My heart freezes. I’m glad I’m already sitting because otherwise I’d pass out and break something. 

“We didn’t wait for help,” James says. “Didn’t think there was time. We just picked him up and ran.”

“Garrus?” I ask.

“Tali and I are in the next room over. I heard everything and told her to get Liara. I called you when we got here,” he finishes.

I turn to Kaidan. “I thought you were monitoring him. When could he have gotten sleeping pills?”

“I was, yeah, but just his general movements, Shepard. I wasn’t spying on him every second. And if his vitals were bad enough, my medisuite would have pinged a warning. Chakwas told me she gave him a low dosage to help him sleep while we were in transit, but she'd never prescribe enough for him to hurt himself. None of this makes any sense.”

“And we’ve been keeping our eye on him since before we even left that planet we crashed on,” Garrus adds. “I never saw or heard him say anything particularly alarming.”

“I could’ve checked on him,” James mumbles. “I should’ve. He said he wasn’t feeling so good. And I was too far gone to think about it when I got back.”

“We were all looking out for him. This wasn’t anyone’s fault,” Steve says.

“It was mine if I didn’t know this was something that might happen,” I snap. 

“Don’t do this to yourself, Shepard,” Garrus tells me. “Don’t add on to everything you’re already carrying. You couldn’t have done more for Joker.”

Kaidan’s hand is on my shoulder, squeezing hard, before I can even open my mouth. Despite what we agreed, I don’t see how I can keep the Crucible secret from the crew. It’s too hard. There’s too much that needs to be explained. And I couldn’t live with myself if I allowed him to believe it was his fault EDI died.

The door slides open behind us. Steve, James and Garrus spring to their feet, and Kaidan wheels me around. Tali and Liara come in. 

“We told Traynor what happened and she’s gathering the crew that’s still on board. Is there any news?” Liara asks. We all shake our heads.

“Are you alright, Shepard?” Tali asks.

“Why do people keep asking if _I’m_ okay?” I bark. “Joker’s the one who’s - who - ” A sob hitches in my chest. "I can't lose him. We can't lose anyone else."

Hands reach out to take each other’s; some fall on my shoulders; nobody says a word. All we can do is wait.

More than an hour passes before the door opens again. 

Everyone but me stands, waiting for Chakwas to deliver the blow. She’s too professional. Her face doesn’t betray a thing.

“Jeff is awake and in stable condition,” she says. “That’s the good news.”

All the tension in the room drains in an instant, and I’m so overwhelmed that it takes me a minute to find my voice. I miss a few questions from the crew before I snap out of it.

“Is he going to be alright, Doctor?” I ask.

“That’s a complicated question, Commander,” Karin says. “And ‘alright’ is certainly debatable.”

“That is by far the least reassuring thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“All of us should be greatly concerned, Commander. Stephen, James - you did the right thing bringing him in. The pill you found was one of the same sleeping pills I prescribed Joker after we crashed and he rejoined the crew. They were low-dosage in the event something like this were to occur as I’ve had him on suicide watch since we lost EDI. This is my standard practice for all of my crew charges whenever they lose a loved one, and I follow that procedure regardless of station or rank. I obviously monitored his use of them carefully and never gave him more than one night’s dose a at a time. When he said he was sleeping better after we were underway I stopped giving him new ones, so the one you found should be the last. If he somehow acquired more, then it was after we arrived on the _Denali_ and without my knowledge. It's possible he took something else, as well, but that's pure speculation at this point. I’m waiting on more comprehensive blood tests to determine if this is the case. Unfortunately, I'm forced to treat this incident as intentional, although there are holes in his story and his motivations remain unclear.”

“Unclear motivations? This seems pretty cut and - ”

“Excuse me, Commander, I know this is difficult but if you’re going to jump on every word I say from here on out, I won’t be able to explain anything.”

She stares me down and Kaidan squeezes my shoulder again. I’ll apologize later when I’m not on the verge of screaming at everything. I nod.

“Thank you, sir,” she says and turns to the crew. “Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t share any of this information with anyone except Joker’s commanding officer. Seeing as High Command hasn’t exactly given us clear directives other than placing us on shore leave, technically that means both Commander Shepard and Commander Alenko are privy to his medical records. However, I’m going to bend that confidentiality rule here seeing as you’re his major support network. Nothing I tell you now is to be repeated to anyone else without Joker’s consent. Nor will I be sugarcoating anything about this because it is quite literally a matter of life or death. Is that understood?”

We all nod.

“Good. There are significant holes in his story, so I need to ask everyone present a few questions. Now, what happened last night?”

I listen with her as they repeat everything they told me and she nods quietly along, sometimes asking a few clarifying questions. They finish and she continues.

“Alright, thank you. The story I got from him is that he left the officers’ club early because he was feeling tired and a little nauseous. He got back to his, James, and Stephen’s quarters, showered, and relaxed for a while before going to bed. He woke up after only an hour or two, didn’t feel drunk anymore, and took a single pill - technically only half of a full dosage. He told me the only thing he remembers until waking up here is knocking the bottle to the floor and leaving it there for the morning. Even though the other pill couldn’t have killed him, if his intent had been death then he wouldn’t have left it there."

None of this makes sense to me. I pause before asking, “If that's his story, then this _doesn’t_ really seem like a serious, intentional attempt, right?”

“No, it doesn’t. And that explanation wouldn’t concern me if I believed him,” she says.

My blood runs cold. “So what _did_ happen?”

“I’m not sure. The only information I have now is his story, which is only partly corroborated by Stephen and James since they were absent or otherwise unaware of what was happening. And, gentlemen, let me assure you none of this is your fault just because you were enjoying yourselves for an evening. As I said, I’m still waiting on a few tests but ultimately we won’t learn much more unless Joker tells us the exact sequence of events.”

“Why would he lie to you?” I ask.

“It’s common in patients with severe depression and even the most minor levels of suicidal ideation, Commander. They defend and downplay their actions to keep their options open even if they never follow through.”

“So he’s worse off than any of us thought?” Kaidan asks.

“Out of necessity that’s the assumption I’m working off of, and the one you should be, too. It’s much better to overreact than not,” she replies. “Returning to Earth hasn’t been as easy on Joker like it has for some of the rest of us. It can be shocking to the system to be immersed in a setting where so many are celebrating while you’re still grieving.”

“He was saying that even before we left that godforsaken planet,” Kaidan mutters. “And I didn’t help much there.”

“Indeed,” Karin confirms. “As soon as we knew Commander Shepard was alive, he said as much to me.”

“So Kaidan and I can’t fix this,” I say.

“On the contrary,” she replies. “With how much he looks up to you and values your friendship, you may be the only one who can help him find some equilibrium again. You need to speak with him, soon.” 

“Karin, I don’t even know where to start.”

“It doesn’t have to be the speech of a lifetime, Commander. He needs to know that you still care about him as a friend, first and foremost, and that you haven’t been so wrapped up in everything else that you’ve forgotten his pain.”

Kaidan’s the only one in the room who knows that my reality is the complete opposite of what she’s just said, that the parties we’ve had have only masked my own pain of knowing how I’ve irrevocably destroyed Joker’s heart. I’m freezing up again, and only Kaidan rescues me.

“Hey, everyone, can you give us a minute with the Doctor?”

_Oh, shit_. I know exactly what he’s aiming at. The rest of the crew glance at me but file out without protest.

“Can I - ” she asks but Kaidan cuts her off with a finger to his lips. He activates his omnitool; a flash goes through the room and a range of buzzing tones emit from it. It’s a crude form of ensuring most listening devices or cameras have just been temporarily neutralized or scrambled, but it should be effective. The move doesn’t seem to surprise her, and she kneels in front of my chair.

“May I assume you’re finally going to tell me what’s eating at _you_ , Commander?” she asks me, speaking in a lower register. I glance up at Kaidan, who shrugs helplessly and nods.

“For Joker’s sake, she needs to know what happened so she can help us figure out what to tell him,” he whispers.

_What happened,_ he said, _not what_ really _happened_. That’s our code for Hackett’s explanation - as close to the truth as I can get. Chakwas turns and tilts her head so her ear is right in front of my mouth.

“I’m the one who fired the Crucible, Karin, and I knew it would target all synthetics,” I breathe. “I didn’t have a choice. It’s my fault EDI died.”

She leans back away from me, not meeting my eye, considering what I’ve just told her. Her face doesn’t betray any emotions. She motions Kaidan down.

“Who else knows?” she asks.

“Only me and Hackett,” Kaidan responds, artificially making his voice higher - yet another measure to make sure the rudimentary security measures work. Switching our registers while his omnitool still emits those tones further confuses any attempts to electronically listen in.

“And were you planning on telling Joker?”

“Yes, soon,” I tell her. “We needed to work some things out first. And I’m still not even really sure how to do it.”

Chakwas nods. “Understandable. This is… yes, I think understandable is the best word for why you’ve waited. I’m not blaming you for trying to sort through - my God.” She hangs her head briefly and then takes my hand. “My dear, I’m so sorry.”

Kaidan’s hand also falls on my shoulder, and I reach up and take it. “Doctor, we’ll have to talk about my guilt and how to deal with it later. Right now all I care about is Joker.”

She squeezes my hand and nods again. “As painful and risky as it is, you must tell him. And ‘soon’ needs to be _sooner_. Certainly not this morning, but perhaps tonight or tomorrow. Right now he's on under a mandatory watch, but I can’t hold him indefinitely without more proof that this was a serious attempt. Commander, you _have_ to get in there and find out what happened, and then you need to figure out how best to tell him that EDI’s death wasn’t his fault.”

“Right, and how do I do that in a way that keeps him from getting worse or, God forbid, coming after me?” I ask.

She considers me. I’ve asked this in the interest of self-preservation and I’ve betrayed how scared I am by all of it. But it’s also an honest question. There are plenty of people who have wanted to kill me over the years, but never a friend. It’s not something I’ve ever had to consider before, and now it’s a possibility of my own making. And that’s part of why I didn’t tell Tali and Liara about the choice the Catalyst forced on me. Not that I’d be worried about them wanting to harm me, but it makes everything we’re trying to accomplish now that much more difficult. I hate lying to the crew even by omission, but I don’t see any other way forward.

"Shepard," Kaidan says, gently shaking my shoulder. I catch myself staring out into nothing and force myself to focus.

“I just don’t want anyone else to get hurt because of this fucking war,” I whisper. “I want to fix this, Karin. Tell me how to fix this.”

She can’t hide the pity from her eyes this time. “You can’t fix this, Commander. It’s just not that simple. However, you can take steps with Joker to help him work through his grief. Even then, there’s only so much you can do. First, you need to go talk to him, just to check in on him. Don’t mention any of what you need to tell him about EDI. He needs to rest today. For now, he just needs to know you’re there for him as a friend and his commander who he followed into hell and back so many times. Can you do that, Commander?"

I swallow hard. It's a visit I'll have to make alone. And I pray I'll be able to keep my damn mouth shut without Kaidan there to help me. I nod. "Yeah. Yeah, I can do that."

"Good," she says. "Commander Alenko, turn that damned thing off before it gives all of us migraines."

Kaidan toggles the omnitool off, and the tones cease. I'm left with an annoying ringing in my ears, and we call the others back in. James and Steve might be giving me the benefit of the doubt, but Garrus, Liara, and Tali sure as hell know we're up to something. I'm going to have to sit everyone down and give them Hackett's explanation and swear them to secrecy. The rest of the galaxy will have to be content knowing the Crucible functioned as it was supposed to - albeit with unfortunate and unanticipated collateral damage. Karin spends a few minutes telling them what they can expect in terms of Joker's treatments and overall health, and I lose their words in a haze of my own jumbled thoughts.

“Commander?” Karin asks me.

I snap out of my daze. “I’m sorry, I was just - I’m worried for Joker. Thank you for taking care of him.”

“Of course,,” she replies and then looks around at us. “I do want to be clear to each of you that Joker’s mental health is still tenuous. I can’t be everything to him while he’s under observation, so I need you to be mindful of his needs. Kindly refrain from making jokes about how he scared you or how hard this incident was on you or letting it be blown out of proportion as your stories so often become. Am I understood?”

"We won't," I say pointedly and briefly look at my crew. They get it. Eventually that prohibition will be forgotten because death isn’t a taboo comedic topic for any of us, not after all the shit we’ve seen, but for now they'll listen to her. I don't even need to make the ban a direct order - another thing I rarely have to do to keep everyone in line.

"I'm keeping him here today to make sure he stays hydrated and to flush everything out of his system, and for at least two days so a full psychological evaluation can be completed. Commander Shepard, do you want to add anything?”

"Psych evals for Joker and the entire team, yes." We do really need it.

My omnitool goes off and I look at the call I.D. “It's Hackett. _Fuck_ , the High Command meeting."

Kaidan leans in and takes my hand to stop me from answering. "Tell him there was an emergency with a crewmember."

"I can't, I should have met him and Örjan five minutes ago." Kaidan quickly pins my wrist to my thigh and reaches to answer with his free hand. "Kaidan, what the hell - "

He shushes me and opens the channel. "Admiral Hackett, this is Commander Alenko, we’ve had an emergency medical situation with one of our crewmembers. Commander Shepard will be there at 0800. We apologize for the delay. Alenko, out."

Kaidan releases my hand and the line disconnects and stays quiet. James stares at him in awe, clearly trying not to lose it entirely. "Nice move, Commander L2."

"Kaidan, seriously?" I ask.

"You need to let me take care of you sometimes," he responds curtly. "Joker needs you more, so they can wait. It's not like they don't have a thousand things to talk about that can fill the next half-hour."

“You’re going to get me court-martialed.”

Garrus scoffs. “Yeah, right, Shepard. They’re going to court-martial the galaxy’s hero because his boyfriend hung up on them. If anything, it’s his ass on the line.” 

“It would be a nice reprieve anyway,” Kaidan responds. “So let’s get you in to see Joker and then go to my trial, alright?”

“Do you need anything from us, Commander?” Steve asks me. 

I shake my head. “No, this is something I need to do on my own. Go, uh, get some breakfast, everyone. And then stick around to help however you can. I’ll fill you in later.”

Kaidan takes my chair, and I catch Steve’s arm as we pass. “And Steve - don’t beat yourself up for splitting off last night. You’re Joker’s friend, not his live-in psychiatrist.”

“Permission to speak freely, sir?” he asks me.

“Yes, Steve, always.”

“With respect, sir, try to remember you’re not his personal savior,” Steve says gently. “Speaking from experience, he needs to do the work of getting himself out of this hole. You can help him like you helped me, but you’re not his end-all either.”

I nod. “No, you’re right. I appreciate that. Thank you.”

Kaidan wheels me out with Karin. We don’t have far to go. Joker’s just down the hall in a private room with an orderly standing guard outside. Half of the door is thick one-way glass so he can be observed, and right now he’s just sitting up in bed staring into space. There’s no viewport since the medbay is so well protected, but he’s looking lightyears away at something no else can see. His wrists are bound to the bed frame with soft restraints. I pale and my gorge rises again.

“Are you going to be okay?” Kaidan asks me.

“As long as I don’t say anything stupid, I guess so.”

“Commander, remember what I told you,” Karin says. “You’re just checking in with him. No shop talk unless he brings something up, but even then don’t speak about what we discussed. You’re here as a friend first, then commander.”

I nod. “And I assume you’re listening in as part of your standard procedure?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Alright, so if I _do_ fuck this up, we’ll know exactly how.”

She puts her hand on my shoulder again. “Commander, you have the best rapport with your crew I’ve ever seen from an Alliance officer. You’re going to be fine. Shoot straight with him, and let him say whatever he needs to get off his chest.”

“I think that last part is going to require more privacy,” I say bleakly.

“You’re probably right, but this isn’t the time or place for it. Now stop stalling and get in there.”

Kaidan helps me up out of the chair and I take my crutch. He and Karin back away and sit out of sight of the room, and I nod to the orderly to let me in. I step in and the door slides shut behind me. Joker doesn’t look over.

“Hey, Joker.”

“Nice of you to drop by. No party or ceremony this morning?” He still doesn’t look over and his bluntness is like a slap. His voice is raspy, pained. Like they had to intubate him. 

“No, I’m all partied-out, to be honest.”

“Surprising considering they haven’t even really happened yet.”

“We did tell High Command to fuck off for a while so I could come see you. You know, for old time’s sake like we did with the Council.”

No reaction. Nothing. Karin said they didn’t have him on any drugs or anything to keep him calm or sedated. It’s like I’m talking to a completely different person.

"And I wanted to say I'm sorry we haven't had a chance to talk more since you got back."

"Yep."

I'm not sure where to go with this. My knee is starting to shake. "You know it's not that I've been ignoring you, right? Or that I don't care? It's just - there've been - things."

"Things like parties and spending time locked away in the _Normandy_ fucking your boyfriend?"

Another slap. My knee is shaking harder. So is my hand grasping my crutch, and not entirely from the effort of holding me up.

"Can we leave Kaidan out of this? He doesn't have anything to do with me being here."

Joker snorts. "Of course he doesn't. You really wanna stand there and tell me he's not listening in with Chakwas?"

"I still haven’t been cleared for active duty, so he's technically your commanding officer right now."

“Then why isn't he in here trying to give me a pep talk?”

“Do you want him to give you a pep talk?”

“No.”

“Alright, then talk to me.”

“What if I don’t want to talk to you either?”

He doesn’t see me grimace in pain. I suck in a steadying breath. “It’s either me or one of the ship’s psychiatrists, and no one likes them.”

“Yeah, honestly, this isn’t a whole lot better.”

“I get that,” I nod. "Hey, can I - can I sit? I'm in a lot of pain."

"Good. That makes two of us.” Joker’s grief hits me hard. A fresh wave of guilt follows. It takes all of my self-control not to turn around and leave, but his pain isn’t physical and maybe that’s worse. So I silently curse my body and that helps relieve some of my frustration.

"Joker, we need to know what happened with you last night. Will you tell me, please?"

“I already told Chakwas.”

“I want to hear it from you.”

“Shepard, I’m fine. I didn’t feel well, so I left the officers’ club. I got back to our rooms, couldn’t sleep, so I took a pill like I’ve been doing most of the last few weeks.”

“Yeah, just one? And how much did you drink before taking it?”

He shrugs. “Enough. Or maybe not enough depending on how you look at it.”

I want nothing less than to take the three steps I would need to get over to his bed and smack him upside the head if only to get a straightforward answer. It would be decidedly unproductive, but damn it all if it wouldn’t feel good.

“So, what, you just rolled the dice? You didn’t care that it might kill you?”

He shrugs again. “Wouldn’t be so bad given the circumstances.”

“Joker, that’s - that really scares me,” I choke out. “Why?”

“You wouldn’t understand why.”

“No?”

“Nope. You’ve got everything you’ve ever wanted. You won the war. You’ll be commended more than anyone else in history. And you’ve got Kaidan.” 

I swallow hard and look down, closing my eyes against the tears that threaten to spill. “You make it sound so easy. I’ve been having a hard time with everything, too.”

Joker shakes his head a little and scoffs. “Yeah, it must have been really hard getting a family Christmas with Kaidan and his mom.”

“I seem to remember everyone else - including you - right there with us.” I shouldn’t be confrontational. That’s the last thing this should be, and I took the bait.

He finally looks over at me. I try to tell myself that I see pain and fury in his eyes; I try to tell myself his expression is unreadable; I try to tell myself I see anything but this horrible _blankness_ in his expression. The laughter that was always so readily seen on his face has gone out like a fire in a vacuum.

“Not everyone, Shepard.”

And there it is. I stepped right into it without even mentioning her name. And now I can’t stop the tears.

“Oh, so you do remember that we lost her.”

“Joker, I never - how could I forget EDI?”

“You tell me. You tell me why it’s been five days since we’ve gotten back and you haven’t said her name once. You tell me how after everything we’ve been through that you couldn’t find time to talk before now. You tell me why I should give a damn about any of this anymore.”

I don’t have any good answers. “Things got complicated, Joker, I’m sorry.”

“If that’s all you came in here to say, you can leave now.”

I almost tell him. No, I almost blurt all of it out without any thought of the consequences. The words are forming on my lips but he cuts me off without knowing it.

“Just get out of here, Shepard. Leave me alone.” 

“Okay. I’ll go. Can we talk again tonight? Or tomorrow? There’s more I need to tell you - more Kaidan and I need to tell you.”

He shakes his head and looks away from me, sighing heavily. “Yeah, sure, whatever you want. They’re not letting me out of here for a while anyway, are they?”

“Not until they know you’re safe. I don’t want anything else to happen to you. And I need you to understand that some things happened that are bigger than both of us.”

“What game are you playing, Shepard? Are you really that desperate to keep me around?”

“No, Joker. There’s no game. I’m not angling for anything except making sure that you’re alright. And I’m hoping that once I explain myself then maybe we can get through all of this unfathomable bullshit and still be friends.” 

He looks at me again, disgusted. “You know, outside of the poker table I don’t think you’ve ever lied to me before.”

“It’s just - there are things we can’t talk about here. I’m asking you to trust me one last time.”

And by asking him to trust me as a friend, I’ve just destroyed any chance of what I told him I’m hoping for. I just lied in five different ways, and he’ll never trust me again. All I can hope for now is that once he finds out what I did that he’ll redirect all of his loathing at me and live instead of letting it fester inside.

“Fuck it,” he sighs. “Alright, Shepard. For the sake of our friendship and all the unfathomable bullshit we’ve survived, I’ll listen. I’m not promising anything else.”

“And I’m not asking you to. Whenever you’re ready, Joker. Thank you.”

He just nods and I turn to go. “Hey, Shepard?”

I turn back to him. His cheeks are flushed and he barely meets my gaze. “I told Kaidan - Commander Alenko - that I’m done. I meant it. I’m resigning my commission. Have him bring my discharge papers when we talk.”

I nod and then leave before I collapse. Those few steps are some of the most painful I’ve ever taken. The door closes behind me and Kaidan rushes to me with my wheelchair. I actually whimper in pain as I drop into it and bend my knee.

“Are you okay?” Kaidan asks me.

“You heard him. Of course I’m not fucking okay. Karin, can I get some pain meds for this damn leg?”

“I’ve already got it. Breathe in… exhale…” I do as she says and she jabs my thigh with a morphozine med canister. My breathing eases and my leg stops trembling. “You know, Commander, we really need to get you into proper physical therapy now that you’re moving around. We’ll discuss the details later this afternoon.”

“Duly noted,” I groan as she and Kaidan lift it up onto the footrest. “Thanks.” I catch Kaidan’s eye and kick myself. “I’m sorry, Kaidan. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

He nods and kisses my cheek. “It’s alright, Shepard. This has been an awful morning. We need to go now if we’re going to get you to High Command on time. Or should I call them again? I think we’ve still got some clout.”

I close my eyes for a minute, weighing my options and responsibilities. It was supposed to get easier after we won, wasn’t it?

Karinputs her hand on my shoulder. “Commander, there’s nothing more you can do for Joker right now. Not until I get the full story. I can write you a doctor’s note to get out of this meeting, if you need it.”

I snort and then shake my head. “No. This one’s too important, and I have to focus on something else for a while. Can you walk us out?”

“Of course.” Kaidan wheels me around and she falls in step with me. “You did well.”

“Did I?” I ask. “Felt like a pretty piss-poor attempt.”

“He opened up about how he’s really feeling. It helps me understand how to better treat him. And him agreeing to speak with you later means your relationship, however tenuous, is still intact for now. Honestly, it’s the most you could have hoped for today.”

“Yeah, Shepard, this wasn’t going to get fixed any time soon,” Kaidan adds.

I look at both of them. “Then why do I feel like I made everything between us worse?”

“You haven’t,” Karin says. “You’ve just seen clearly how difficult things truly are.”

I sigh and put my face in my hands. I feel like I’ve aged a decade or two in the last month, and I wonder - not for the first time - if recovering from the war will kill me prematurely.

“Shepard, you still here?” Kaidan asks, and I nod. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

I wave the question off. “Ask me again after we talk to Joker.” 

We get to the elevator out of the medbay and Karin sends us off. “Commander, as difficult as this morning has been, I expect you back for treatment this afternoon,” she tells me as Kaidan pulls me into the lift. “We need to check that knee again, and I still need to go over your full prognosis with you.”

I nod. “See you later, Karin. And thank you for everything.”

“Of course, Commander. Good luck up there.” The door closes between us, and Kaidan kneels in front of me.

“I know I just asked this morning - shit, was it only a few hours ago? Are you good, Shepard? I’ll give anything not to see you in that kind of room in restraints.”

“That’s not going to happen, Kaidan. I promise.” I lean forward and hug him the best I can. “This really sucks.”

He laughs a little. “Understatement, much?”

“You were right; I can’t tell him everything. I still need to tell him _something_ , and I don’t see our friendship surviving it.”

Kaidan nods sadly. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry, Shepard.”

“We've lost people, sure, but we've never had any huge blowups and falling outs."

"Except that one time on Hori- "

"Don't say it," I groan. "Don't fucking say it."

Kaidan chuckles a little. “Difference from them is we’re all still here together, Shepard. And you’re here to keep us together. You’ll figure something out like always.”

"What if I can't figure this one out, Kaidan? What if we all unravel and I can't stop it?"

He stands and gets behind the chair again as we get to the level of the command bridge. He leans around and kisses my cheek. "You've got this, Shepard. You always do. But right now you need to focus on this meeting."

The door hisses open, and we emerge into the familiar swarm of activity of a capital ship. We make our way slowly toward the CIC and bridge, threading through groups of officers and noncoms rushing to and from banks of consoles and conference rooms. The energy is high, but completely lacking the panic of wartime. Nearly every soldier stops and salutes as we go by like we were Hackett himself, and whisperings follow behind us like a cool breeze. And I swear there are more than a few who start crying when they see us before turning or hiding their faces.

_Yeah, that needs to stop yesterday._

“Commanders, here!” a voice calls. A group of officers in front of us part and Örjan pushes through to get to us. “I sent Lieutenant Traynor to find you, and I was just about to come looking for you myself. This way, please. High Command is waiting for you now.”

“How pissed off are they?” I ask.

“Were it anyone else, it would be seen as a career-killing slight. But for the sake of decorum, we really cannot delay any longer.”

“In that case, should we go get some breakfast?” Kaidan asks me.

“Only if it’s French toast day in the mess hall,” I retort.

“Commander - ” Örjan starts until I raise my hand.

“At ease, Lieutenant Eriksson, I’ve been reprimanded. I’ll make my apologies and clear you of any responsibility for not getting me here on time.”

“It’s hardly that, sir,” they say, a little indignantly, making me bite back a smile. “Did Commander Alenko fill you in on what he and I discussed this morning?”

“Enough, yeah. And I pieced the rest together as soon as I could think straight again. I’m not totally unprepared here.”

“Of course, Commander. Even so, this promises to be a most difficult morning,” they say cautiously. “Not that I don’t believe you can handle it, sir.”

“Eriksson,” Kaidan grunts, maneuvering me around a deck-mounted holo display. “If you’ve got eyes on the front and intel we’re missing, we need to know. What’s he walking into?”

“‘Walking’?” I snort.

I can feel Kaidan rolling his eyes above me. “So to speak. What advice do you have for him?”

Örjan steers us down a smaller hall out of the main CIC area. The signs indicate the executive conference suite is just ahead. They stop us in a small alcove and lower their voice.

“There are eleven top admirals and generals waiting, sir. That’s all that’s left of High Command. The predominant feeling from what I gathered is anxiety about the future and whether full galactic unification is possible or even advisable after the war’s immense drain on our resources. In light of the final battle taking place on and above Earth, not to mention _your_ inarguable victory, a few of them will see this as an opportunity to advance humanity's rank and will want to use you to that end.”

_Fuck_. These are the games I wanted to avoid. 

“Do you know who?” I ask.

“General Andrews from the Alliance arms manufacturing on Bekenstein and Vice Admiral Corsini of the Sixth Fleet are the most likely, but expect it to come from nearly any direction. Admiral Hackett is obviously in your corner, but there’s only so much he can do to keep you out of the fray.” 

“So what do you advise?” Örjan falls silent a moment, and I wave my hand. “You have permission to speak freely.”

They nod. “As tempting as it may be, sir - or as daunting as the future seems - don’t remove yourself as a piece. Old faction lines will assuredly begin to reassert themselves, as will old resentments from the First Contact War. Those divisions will likely prove fatal to most of the galaxy if they’re allowed to grow and bloom into conflict. The only way forward is to maintain the coalition you built to stop the Reapers. That’s the long game, Commander. Not much of that is likely to be talked about so forthrightly this morning, but I guarantee it’s on everybody’s minds. You’re uniquely positioned to sway enormous swaths of public opinion, and whether you like it or not you’re a figurehead for our entire species. As you go, so will humanity and the Alliance’s role in reconstruction.”

Their violet eyes don’t blink or look away. Their jaw is set, grim - absolutely certain in what they’re telling me. And I’m not picking up even a whisper of fear from them. Hell, I’ve faced down some of the galaxy’s worst warlords, hardened criminals, and rogue agents who had less guts than Eriksson. 

“So you’re telling me that it’s essentially falling on me to shape the future of the galaxy.” Such a simple sentence with weight beyond imagining behind it. 

“More so than you already have, sir, yes,” Örjan says, almost reverently.

“Alright. So, how do you recommend I play this?”

I swear they smirk a little. “I’ve seen vids of some of your interactions with the Council. Play it the same way - simple, direct, - and with no time for bullshit, if I may be so frank.”

Kaidan stifles a laugh. “You’ve definitely had lots of practice with that, Shepard.”

“I would also hold off on any major demands, sir,” Örjan continues. “If anyone asks, you're working on proposals. That'll buy you some breathing room for some of the bigger things, but obviously nothing will be formally decided until the Summit. If they ask about personal requests, sooner is best in case you disillusion some of them.”

“Again, so much practice,” Kaidan smiles. 

“Can you _stop_ with that before we go in?” I ask him.

“Actually, sir, it’s just you,” Örjan tells us. “It’s a private meeting, and Commander Alenko wasn’t originally invited.”

“Is that code for ‘I was uninvited for hanging up on Hackett’?” Kaidan asks.

“No, sir,” Örjan smiles. “Though I do think you’ll be needed later. And now we really must get Commander Shepard in there.”

"Alright, just one second,” Kaidan says before dropping down in front of me. “Shepard - focus on the mission. Right now, that's the meeting. That's it. I'll take care of what I can out here, but it's your boots, your brains on the ground in there. Are you good to go?”

“Mission ready, sir.”

“Smartass. Alright, you’re up.”

Kaidan wheels me back into the hall. We turn the corner toward the conference room and are met with a full body security scanner similar to the _Normandy's_ and six heavily armed guards. One of them approaches with a handheld scanner.

"Biometric I.D., please." I put my hand on the pad while the guard scans my iris. "Identity confirmed. Commander John Shepard, Spectre status recognized. Please follow me, sir. The rest of you need to wait out here unless called for."

"Here, Kaidan, help me up," I tell him.

"Commander, you can take the wheelchair in if you wish," the guard says.

"It's fine," I reply and hold up my crutch. "Do you need to scan this separately?"

"No, sir, it's fine to go through with you."

I turn back to Kaidan and Örjan. "Alright, then, I'll see you when I see you.”

"Good luck, Shepard," Kaidan says and clasps my shoulder. "We'll be here if you need anything."

I nod and step through the scanner. The last pair of guards salute before keying me in and step aside.

The door opens, and one of the worst mornings of my life turns into maybe the most surreal. 

I walk in under my own power to a standing ovation. I step toward the low, semi-circular dais at as best a parade march as I can manage with my knee. The applause only breaks long enough for them to return my salute. Decorum dictates I remain standing until they sit, so I’m forced to stand there at attention for several minutes before the clapping dies down and Hackett directs them to take their seats. I sit at a small table, gratefully, and wait for the shitshow to begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to take this opportunity to apologize _again_ for how brutal this arc is on Joker and Shepard. And all of you who love them as much as I do. It's never easy seeing our favorites in pain, and now that I'm the one doing the writing it hits harder lol.
> 
> I promise there's light at the end of the tunnel; they just have a lot of shit to slog through first.
> 
> Thank you, everyone, who has read this far (and apologies for the delay between postings since January); and thanks as always to my betas who don't let me pull punches but also make sure I'm being true to the needs of the story.


	17. Joker 3 - Event Horizon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joker, overwhelmed by grief piled upon grief, pushes Shepard away. After he breaks down, the crew finds out what happened to his sister on Tiptree when the Reapers hit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **TW/CW: Mentions of suicide, ideation, and attempts**  
>  _  
>  *****No major character deaths*****  
> _  
>  This four chapter arc - Kaidan 5; Shepard 4, Pt. 1; Joker 3; and Shepard 4, Pt. 2 - are _heavy_ on the post-war grief and major depression. Again, there are _no major character deaths_ , but the warning stands - especially during Year Two of Pandemic. I want y'all to be taking care of yourselves first and foremost. 
> 
> Joker is alive and stable. I'm not setting this up for heartbreak. There is a slight flashback mid-chapter to when he gets the first message from Tiptree and his immediate reaction, but there's no graphic depiction of self-harm or the like.

~~~

“Just get out of here, Shepard. Leave me alone.”

I can’t stand him. I need him gone. Out of this room. Away from me.

_God_ , I want to punch him. Just once for the satisfaction. Smug bastard. Of course he’s such a decent guy he’d probably let me. But I don’t need any broken bones on top of whatever the fuck’s happening with my body right now.

“Okay, I’ll go. Can we talk again tonight? Or tomorrow? There’s more I need to tell you - more Kaidan and I need to tell you.”

Bastard seriously can’t help himself. I’m starting to regret not sending in an anonymous tip about fraternization. Not that it matters when you’re both Spectres. And the galaxy’s ending.

But Shepard’s tone, his body language - I know him too fucking well. He’s actually sorry. That never happens. _Asshole_.

I turn away from him, as much as I can anyway with these bullshit restraints. Staring at the wall is a better option. But he won’t leave until I answer him.

“Yeah, sure, whatever you want. They’re not letting me out of here for a while anyway, are they?”

_You did this to yourself, you colossal dumbass_.

_No. That’s not how it -_

“Not until they know you’re safe. I don’t want anything else to happen to you. And I need you to understand that some things happened that are bigger than both of us.”

The Savior of the Fucking Universe attempting humility? Yeah, like I said - _asshole_.

“What game are you playing, Shepard? Are you really that desperate to keep me around?” I sneer.

“No, Joker. There’s no game. I’m not angling for anything except making sure that you’re alright. And I’m hoping that once I explain myself then maybe we can get through all of this unfathomable bullshit and still be friends.”

Nope. No way. He needs something from me. Why do people think us ship jockeys are a bunch of idiots?

“You know, outside of the poker table I don’t think you’ve ever lied to me before.”

“It’s just - there are things we can’t talk about here. I’m asking you to trust me one last time.”

_One last time, huh? I can work with that. Maybe get that punch in before I walk out._

_Yeah, good plan. Punch Shepard, get biotically pulped by his boyfriend._

_Hey, that’s one way to go. Granted, you have to actually agree to talk with the asshole._

_The asshole who_ did _save you a few times somewhere in there. Gotta give him that much._

“Fuck it,” I sigh. “Alright, Shepard. For the sake of our friendship and all the unfathomable bullshit we’ve survived, I’ll listen tomorrow. I’m not promising anything else.”

“And I’m not asking you to. Whenever you’re ready, Joker. Thank you.”

He starts to leave. That knee is looking a little unsteady.

_Now who’s the asshole? You know what it’s like to barely be able to walk._

_Oh, fuck_ off _with that._

But there is one more thing I need to say. “Hey, Shepard?”

He looks back at me, and I hate seeing that glimpse of hope on his face. God knows we all saw it enough when he first came back from the dead and he thought things could just go back to normal. Didn’t happen then, it’s not happening now.

But still, I can’t hold that gaze for long.

“I told Kaidan - Commander Alenko - that I’m done. I meant it. I’m resigning my commission. Have him bring my discharge papers when we talk.”

_And there that hope goes flitting away. Who’s the asshole here?_

_News flash, dipshit. The galaxy is full of us._

The door closes and I turn back to the wall.

_It’s better this way._

_Is it, though? Would they still be proud of you, seeing you walk away like this?_

“Doesn’t fucking matter now, does it?” I mutter out loud. “They’re - they’re all - ”

_Gone. They’re gone. Why can’t you say it?_

_Could've at least told him about the message you got. That would have hurt._

“Because then it makes it real.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and try to go to sleep.

_Hilary. Goddammit, I’m so sorry_.

* * *

The door slides open and I jerk awake. My wrist tugs at the straps and sends a jolt of pain up my arm. Of course my first instinct is to grab for it with the other hand and the pain process repeats.

“Shit,” I gasp.

“They’re a standard precaution, Jeff,” Chakwas tells me. “I’m sorry they’re necessary.”

“It’s fine.”

“That’s the last word I’d use for this situation.” She rolls a chair over. I glance at her before looking down at my feet again. I hate the look of pity in her eyes. Still, it’s better than the look Shepard gave me.

“And what’s the first word you’d use?”

“Jeff.”

“Weird choice, but I did leave it an open-ended question,” I snort.

“Jeff,” she repeats. I look over at her again. My face flushes with shame seeing how tired she looks. And after everything she’s done for me, seeing me here like this must feel...

_Yeah, great way to repay her_.

_Can you just_ shut up _?_

“Flight Lieutenant Moreau.”

I snap to and look over at her again. “How long - was I - did I fall asleep?”

She shakes her head. “No. But your eyes glazed over and you stared off into space for a good two minutes. What were you thinking about?”

“I - don’t know. Everything’s weird. Gray. I thought… weren’t we just talking?”

Her eyes narrow. “We were, yes. Until you stopped. I was telling you that it’s understandable, the pain you’re in. And that we’re going to do everything we can to help you get through this.”

I shake my head. “Yeah, I don’t remember any of that.”

“Alright. Are you feeling dizzy? Disoriented?”

“No, it’s more… like the signal’s coming in and out. I know the transmission’s there, but I can’t lock down the source.”

She makes a note on her omnitool and shifts toward me. “What’s the last thing you remember from last night?”

“When last night? It feels like it was a really long time ago.”

“At the club?”

I nod.”Um, the rest of the crew got there. Tali, Liara, Kaidan. And my stomach started to hurt. So I left.”

“And after that?”

“I - got back to the room fine. I wasn’t piss drunk, I know that much. And I laid down.”

“Did you get up for anything?”

I shake my head. “No, felt like the room wanted to spin. Does that make sense? It was fine laying there, but if I’d moved it would have been bad. I don’t get it.”

She looks at me curiously. “You didn’t mention that part earlier this morning.”

“What time is it now?”

“Early afternoon. Does the room still feel like that?”

I shake my head again. “No, it feels fine. My stomach is still nasty. You’re not going to force-feed me are you?”

“Not if you aren’t feeling hungry, no,” she says, making another note. Her omnitool beeps a message while she’s typing and -

_\- but the connection always_ -

“Gets blocked,” I mutter.

“I’m sorry?” Chakwas asks me.

“The connection. It always gets blocked and that’s why I didn’t find out - ” My chest starts heaving and I strain against the damn restraints again just trying to reach up to hold my head because it feels like everything’s blacking out again then Chakwas jerks back and I look at her in horror because I scared her. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Doc, I’m not - I didn’t try - ”

“Lieutenant, I need you to breathe,” she tells me, pulling an oxygen mask off the wall and holding it to my mouth and things start coming back into focus. “Just breathe - slowly - that’s it. You’re doing wonderfully.”

I blink back tears and turn my head away to get out of the mask. If I don’t tell her -

_Saying it makes it real_.

_It’s real. It happened. She’s dead and if you don’t tell someone you’re going to go nova._

I fight for control, and I flash her a thumb’s up. She catches it and nods. She knows what I mean. We’ve already done all of this. Back after the SR-1 blew and I killed Shepard because I was an arrogant prick. She leaves the mask on for another minute and then removes it.

“Why is the connection blocked?” she asks me.

“Because of the war. Limited comms - Doc, my omnitool. There’s a message.” The words tumble out, the closest I’ve gotten to saying it yet.

She reaches into a drawer in the nightstand and pulls it out. She holds it up to my wrist so the implant activates it, and then she turns it toward her. “There’s only one message from last night. Who’s Martin Lee, Jeff?”

“Just play it,” I cough.

_I can’t say it yet._

_Coward_.

Chakwas presses a small cup to my lips and I drink greedily. She refills it and gives me some more.

“It’s home,” I whisper. “Lee’s a friend from Tiptree.”

Her brow furls and she gets it. It all makes sense to her now. But that’s still not - I didn’t take the pill because -

“Jeff, I’m so sorry,” she tells me. “Would it be alright if I brought some of the crew in? It may be easier to tell all of them at once. Not Shepard and Kaidan; I can inform them later.”

All I can manage is a nod. She pats my shoulder and says something into her omnitool. I’m zoning out again until I’m jerked back into range.

“I know it’s hard, Jeff. I promise it will be better to get it out right now,” Chakwas tells me. “Remember? We’ve done this before.”

I nod and hold onto her hand until everyone files in. It’s just command crew, most of the originals plus Steve and James. Liara and James wear weak smiles, can’t miss the relief in their eyes. Garrus looks pissed because, well, he’s a turian and they always look a little pissed even when they’re happy. Tali raises her hand to me but keeps her distance. Steve’s face says he knows exactly how this feels.

“Thank you all for waiting,” Chakwas says. “This has been a difficult morning for Jeff, and for the moment we seem to be in a place where he’s willing to have some company. There’s a message he’d like for me to play now, news he received last night from Tiptree.”

“We’re here for you, Joker,” Steve nods. “You’re not alone.”

His sentiment echoes through the small room and I look back down at my feet.

_I hate people feeling bad for me._

_Maybe this time it’s okay._

She pushes play and -

* * *

My omnitool wakes me out of my dazed, booze fueled half-sleep. I fumble at the haptic controls until it plays the message.

Hearing a familiar voice from Tiptree sobers me up faster than a bucket of ice water to the face.

_“Hey, Jeff. Martin Lee, here._

_It’s been a while, I know, and I hope this gets through to you. I’ve tried calling a few times, but the connection always gets blocked by the damn Alliance - sorry man, no offense. Figured your spot on the_ Normandy _might have gotten you an exception. Maybe not with everything going on._

_I don’t know if you heard about home during the shitstorm, but it got hit hard. Or maybe not hard enough since the Arcturus fuckers couldn’t be bothered to send more than a few shuttle jockeys and old as shit freighters to help us. So, yeah, not many of us got out of there. Just me and Natalie from the old crew. Neither of our families, though._

_And, uh, there’s no easy way to tell you this, but your dad didn’t make it off. He tried, I saw him. The port was already chaos when the first Reaper landers showed up. Governor tried to make a lottery system, but that went to shit fast and there was a lot of fighting. Just wasn’t enough room. Not enough ships. I barely got out of there before the shooting started. My kid brother Jake got hit by a stray round. One foot on the shuttle even as we were lifting off, and his head exploded right next to me. Maybe it wasn’t a stray, I don’t know. Trying not to think about it. Maybe it was better for him that way. Better than staying and having to fight._

_Shit, I’m sorry, I was... Look, I’m calling, trying to anyway - listen, Jeff, I’m really sorry. I don’t think Hilary made it, either. Natalie says she saw her at the port, but I didn’t. Too many people like I said. By the time Natalie and Jake got to us, my crew and I were having to push people off. Fucking governor. He said they were trying to get kids out first, but - yeah, it turned into a shitshow._

_I, uh, wish I had better news for you, man. Wish we all did. Sorry you had to find out like this. Do me a favor and let me know if you get this. We’re out in the Eagle Nebula right now. Don’t know if you can get any help out this way, but we could sure use it. So, uh, yeah, let me know when you get this. Good - good luck, man. - Martin”_

I sit up, feet swinging over the side of my bunk. It’s too cold for bare feet but I don’t have fresh socks. Laundry is backed up. Too much water rationing on the _Denali_ with all the extra bodies we have on board - refugees from other ships that went down in the fight. Coalition soldiers. And no way to get any of them _home_ yet.

I rush up and barely make it to the head before I puke. I hate it. I’ve cracked ribs puking before. It’s why I never drink much as a rule. This time’s a top-fiver for sure.

_I always hated that fucking port. It’s so disorganized. Like whoever designed it thought shuttles were bumper cars. I hope it turned into a crater._

_Not Hilary. Not her, too._

Another nasty spew of tonight’s celebration and there’s that shooting pain I was trying to avoid. I curl up around it. I manage to reach up to turn on the sink’s tap from the floor and bring a mouthful of water down to rinse out some of the taste.

_Fucking tequila. Never again._

_Hil. Pop._

Another sip of water and the sink beeps it’s ration warning. I turn it off and pull myself up. Rib feels sprained, not broken. Didn’t hear a snap. Okay, so maybe just a top-tenner. I stumble gingerly back to my bunk and lay down.

The message plays again.

_You already knew. By the time we got to Thessia, you knew._

_Please be quiet. I just want to sleep_.

And again.

_You could have asked Shepard to go and get her_.

_When? It was too late. It was always too late._

The debate in my fucking brain won’t shut up, and _goddammit_ , I’m tired and just want to -

* * *

“Joker!”

I flinch back from Garrus’s shout. It’s enough to get anyone’s attention.

“Sorry,” I mumble. “Was I telling you? The message, did I play the message?”

“We heard it,” Steve says.

“Oh, okay then. That’s good, right? Because now you know and - ”

I look over at all of them. I wish I could say they look shocked. But we’ve all seen such horrendous shit that this isn’t even a blip on the sensors. I’m not even mad. In fact, it kinda helps.

“She’s gone. Hilary’s gone.”

_There. I said it. It’s real. Happy now?_

Silence. Weird. I always figured a moment like this would hit me like a ferrous slug. But it feels -

“She’s gone,” I repeat, waiting for something, _anything_ to happen. “My kid sister’s dead.”

Nobody says anything. And I’m so grateful.

They just stand there. Letting it hang in the air, letting it settle. Something breaks in me. Not an emotional dam or anything. That’s never been how I’ve flown. But it stops feeling so distant, so not-real. I can’t make any sense of it.

And then the silence gets to be too much.

“Alright, someone say something so you’re not just standing here all day,” I sigh.

“You could’ve called us, Wings,” Vega finally offers. “When you found out, you could’ve called us and we’d have come running.”

I shake my head. “I wasn’t going to ruin your night.”

“Joker,” Tali groans. “You matter so much more to us than a night out. You know that, don’t you?”

“I didn’t want to be a burden,” I counter. “I was a liability after we crashed, I barely did jack shit to get us out of there, and now I’m just - here.”

“You _are_ here, and we’re grateful for it,” Liara says.

“No, that’s not what I mean. Look, all of you have _something_ now, right? You have a thing that you’re going to do. There’s always been a thing for all of you. Mine has been flying. I lost EDI, I can’t stand the idea of being on the _Normandy_ anymore like an accessory that just comes with the ship, and my entire family’s gone. There’s not a whole lot left to really care about. I don’t know where to go from here.”

“Is this the part where I remind you I’ve been in the same boat?” Steve asks.

“Sure, why not?”

“In my worst moments after losing Robert, I thought I only had one way out, too. It’s hard, man. Hard to see a way through. And I almost did something I regret even thinking about now.”

“That’s not what this was,” I bark.

“Jeff, we need you to explain what happened, then,” Chakwas says. “You’ve got to, for your own sake so I can understand how best to treat you. This horrible message is a missing piece, but it doesn’t account for everything.”

“I told you I remember knocking the bottle off the shelf. I know you capped my dosages to prevent something like this, and I never tried to get more. I knew it could be bad if I did. I didn’t try to kill myself. And I’m not going to.”

They’re not entirely convinced, so I start again.

"Look, I know how bad this looks. Steve, James, I’m glad you did what you did. And I'm sorry I scared all of you. But I didn't... _do_ this. I knew it was risky even taking half a dose after drinking, but since I got sick and only took one I guess I thought I’d be okay. I got that message and I just - I just wanted to _sleep_. To block everything out for a few more hours until, I don't know. Until I could think again? Until my stomach stopped feeling like it was going to heave me dry. Until I could talk to someone. Does that make sense?"

“It does,” Chakwas says. “And I believe you.”

“Really?” I ask.

She nods. “Yes, I do. But I needed to hear you say all of that first because I had to be sure some of the details matched up with my findings. Your body had such an extreme reaction because I found remnants of a contaminant in your bloodstream. If you _all_ were at the officers’ club last night - including Garrus and Tali - then I believe I know what happened. During what I’m sure would have been many rounds and toasts, one of your drinks must have been cross-contaminated with dextro alcohol. Only slightly, but enough to trigger mild symptoms of dextro poisoning. These sleeping pills are known to react adversely with dextro compounds. So when your metabolism had a chance to work and everything hit your bloodstream, your body started to fight against itself. In effect, you had a slow burning allergic reaction.”

Her piercing glare interrupts the sighs of relief that spread around the room.

“Do not,” she orders. “Do not celebrate this as a happy accident. Unintentional though this may have been, Jeff, had you not gotten so violently ill from the alcohol and shock before taking the pill - or had you taken the second - it’s unlikely we would be having this conversation right now. At best, you’d be in a coma. _At best_. Is that clear? Do you understand just how perilously close you came to disaster?”

I shiver. And almost piss myself. And I think I’ve got myself under control until I heave and bile scorches my throat. I swallow it back and cough, and Chakwas gives me another sip of water.

“So, do I have your full, unquestioning attention now?” Chakwas asks me. I nod. “Good. Jeff, we need to get you some help to make sure this doesn't happen again. And we need a plan to help you take care of yourself. First off, I’m required by Alliance regulations to keep you here in this room, under restraint, for a full day from when you were admitted. Second, I won’t be giving you any other non-essential medications. What else do you think should happen?”

I have to think for a minute. I don’t think I’ll have long before everything crashes back down and makes me clam up again. “I really don’t know, Doc. Would it be too much to ask everyone for some company today? Even if we don’t talk?”

“I’m down for that,” Steve says.

“Same here,” Garrus adds. “Whatever you need.”

James nods, too. “I have some N-school prep that’ll take a few hours, but I can come back after.”

“And this doesn’t just mean today, Joker,” Tali says. “As long as some of us are on the _Denali_ , you’re stuck with us. However much company you want.”

“Yeah, okay, that’s as good a start as I can think of,” I nod. “How’s that, Doc?”

“It’s a good start.” She stops, looks like she wants to say something else, and sighs a little. “Joker, I’m not sure what’s going on between you and Shepard. I know this situation is hellishly complicated right now and we’re all still very much on edge after everything that’s happened, but I’m afraid I do need to insist that you speak with him before I release you from the medbay.”

“Makes sense,” I nod. “You’re doing your job. He’s doing his.”

“Will talking with Shepard tonight help?” she asks.

I shake my head. “I don’t think so. I’m not ready for that yet. And I might need someone else there just to help keep me in check. I want to resign, not get court-martialed for decking the Savior of the Galaxy.”

She ignores the jab. “Alright. I’ll inform him. What else?”

“Uh, shit. Guess it might help to get in touch with Martin.”

“That’s an excellent idea,” Chakwas says. “It’s possible he may even have more information now. Did you try to respond?”

“No, it didn’t seem worth it,” I admit. “I don’t even know if he’s still alive. This message is so old now anything could have happened to him since he sent it.” Tears start to leak out of the corners of my eyes. I can’t wipe them away or hide them, and I hate it. “I went so long thinking that I was fighting for them. Finding out now is just absolute shit, and I don’t want to get my hopes up by even thinking I might find out what actually happened to my family. By the time Tiptree was hit, so many comm buoys were down the Council and the Alliance throttled civilian messages to give priority to military ops. It’s - this might be enough to know, right?”

“Perhaps,” Liara answers timidly. “It _is_ worth noting this isn’t from an official channel, but it does make sense, though. And Kaidan hasn’t made any progress with checking on her status?”

I shake my head. “The request keeps coming up ‘pending.’ It’s lost in the immovable beast until things calm down.”

“Joker, may I have the message and Mr. Lee’s information? What ship does he serve on?” Liara asks.

“Civilian transporter. _The Oasis_. It’s a piece of shit. His captain thought it was funny. It’s all there in the message details.”

Chakwas hands her my omnitool and she transfers the information to hers. “Alright. Let me check on some channels. You know I can’t promise anything, but I may be able to find him so we can learn more. At the very least, it may help start to bring some closure.”

“Thanks, Liara. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course, my friend. I’m happy to help however I can. I’ll be back soon.”

She leaves without another word, and like clockwork Chakwas’s omntiool goes off. “I need to go as well. I have other appointments this afternoon, but if you need anything at all tell one of the crew or one of the nurses and I’ll return immediately. We still need to wait a few hours for your system to keep flushing out the dextro contaminants, and then I’ll have an orderly bring you some food.”

I nod my thanks, and James also takes off so he can make it to whatever fresh N-school plebes have to do to prep for their training. Tali, Steve, and Garrus bring some chairs over to the bed and sit around. They honor my request for silent company for a few minutes until it gets so weird I can’t stand it.

“Alright, so which one of you assholes tried to poison me with your dextro shit?”

Steve snorts while Garrus and Tali point at each other. I chuckle once. Twice.

And then I start crying. Each of them reaches for whatever part of me is closest and lets me get it out of my system.

It takes a hell of a long time. Enough time that I end up falling asleep.

* * *

They’re still here when I wake up, and James has rejoined us.

And the assholes are playing poker on a tray they set on my legs like I’m so much furniture.

“You’re all dicks, you know that?” I bark, startling Garrus whose back is mostly to me.

“Who had ten credits on an adolescent anatomy-based insult?” Tali asks.

“Me, pay up,” James says. “How you feeling, buddy?”

“Hungry. And pissed off, so if I have to sit here like this then you need to deal me in while we wait for lunch.”

“Good. Chakwas will be happy you have an appetite,” Tali says. “Except it’s time for dinner, not lunch. You were out for a long time. I’ll go tell Chakwas you’re up.”

“Alright, sounds good.”

About an hour later after getting spoon-fed some soup and finishing a few hands of poker and blackjack, the door opens again. Liara rushes in with Chakwas. Something’s up. They both look like they’ve seen a ghost.

“Doc?” I ask.

“You’ll need to be more specific,” Chakwas says, holding up her omnitool to check my vitals. “How are you feeling?”

“Alright, I guess. Dinner helped settle my stomach. Did something else happen?”

Chakwas shakes her head. “No. But Liara has news. And it’s bound to come as a bit of a shock, so I need you to try to relax.”

“Okay…”

Liara takes Garrus’s seat and turns toward me. “Joker, I have news about Martin Lee and Hilary. I need to explain it quickly because I’m waiting for a call, so please allow me to get through it and I’ll answer all of your questions afterwards.” She pauses, waiting for me to respond. I just nod and she continues. “Unfortunately, it appears Mr. Lee’s ship was destroyed. The last signal check I found from _The Oasis_ was a mayday received in the Eagle Nebula not long after the message he sent you. There may be others that trickle in as comm systems catch up, but I believe they were ambushed by a Reaper scouting unit. I’ll try to find out more, for the sake of your friend.”

“Thank you,” I whisper. Something’s building.

“Of course, my friend. Now, there’s more. The timestamp on his original message struck me as odd, and I found that it was dated several days before the last comms on Tiptree went dark. I checked against _Normandy_ records, and this would have been almost immediately before an asari commando team was dispatched to the colony to assist. Nearly all of the commando team were lost, but they sent reports to Thessia before the colony was fully overrun. I didn’t want to get your hopes up earlier, but since it didn’t sound like Mr. Lee actually saw anything happen to Hilary I thought _perhaps_ there might be a slim chance she escaped the spaceport even if she were still stuck on Tiptree. Once I tracked down that commando team’s reports, I found what I was looking for.”

She holds a hand up to her mouth briefly and then takes my hand with both of hers. “Joker, the team elected to stay behind to fight and ordered their last pilot to evacuate a small group of survivors. That ship fled to the salarian colony Senoquol in the next cluster, and I established contact about half an hour ago. The pilot confirmed the list of survivors, including pictures, and Hilary is one of them. She _survived_ , Joker! Lee’s message was wrong!”

As proof, she holds up her omnitool and swipes through the list until we get to her picture. It’s her. She’s scared and battered and looks like they’ve been roughing it, but it’s _her_ and she looks so much like mom and I can’t breathe for how shocked I am. No one else in the room moves or says anything. It’s like we’re all afraid to break the spell and one wrong move will ruin everything. The chances of this are -

“Joker?” Liara asks me. “Do you understand what I just told you?”

“Yeah, I - I do. I just can’t believe it. When was this taken?”

“When they first arrived. They’ve had a rough time, from the sound of it. Senoquol was also hit later in the war, but they managed to stay hidden. The colony’s survivors regathered after the Crucible fired and they only managed to rebuild their comm tower last week. The signal is significantly delayed and spotty, but - ”

“Can I talk to them?” I demand. “Hilary? The pilot? Anybody who can tell me what’s happening out there?”

“Of course,” Liara smiles. “The link is being established through a series of buoys and a hijacked QEC backchannel so it may not hold for long, but the pilot is standing by. Are you ready?”

I nod and then shake my head as a fresh wave of emotions batters its way out of me. My face is a mess and I can’t believe how close - how I almost ended everything by being so fucking _stupid_. Chakwas holds up a damp towel to my eyes and then wipes my face clean.

“It’s alright, Jeff,” Chakwas tells me. She always could basically read my mind. “You’re alright.”

“Doc, I can’t let her see me like this,” I insist quickly. “Not strapped down or in a medbay bed. It’ll scare her and I don’t want her to think something’s wrong.”

“I understand completely,” Chakwas says. “We can’t do anything about the bed or restraints, but we can at least get you into something besides a hospital gown and I’ll angle the camera up at you. As far as anyone needs to know, you’re here because you had a bad drink.”

“Okay. Okay, that’s fine. Okay.” I breathe heavily, trying to get myself under control.

“Hey, Joker, this is pretty incredible,” James smiles. “I’m really happy for you, man.”

“Really,” Garrus mutters. “The odds of this are just - ”

“He knows, _ke’sed_ ,” Tali interrupts quietly, putting a hand on his arm.

Steve stands and claps my shoulder. “We’ll give you the room. Let’s go, everyone.”

They all follow him out except for Liara and Chakwas. Liara sets up a small display on my tray while Chakwas releases one arm at a time to help me slip on an Alliance sweatshirt over my medbay gown before strapping me back in. I don’t even care. I can’t tear my eyes off the screen.

Chakwas finishes and moves a chair away from the bed to give me at least a little space. I swear I can feel the seconds dragging longer like we’re nearing an event horizon.

“Liara, how long - ”

Liara smiles. “Soon. Very soon. I’ll go as soon as you’re speaking with Captain L’Taerys.”

I shake my head. “I’d like you to stay. You made this happen. I can’t thank you enough.”

She smiles and takes a seat next to Chakwas and the screen flashes to life. The picture is dirty, lines of static wavering across it. But there’s no mistaking the asari commando.

“Captain L’Taerys, this is Flight Lieutenant Moreau. Do you read me?”

Liara’s fucking incredible. The delay is about a minute, or a year off my life. One of the two.

_“Yes, Lieutenant, we copy. I have someone here who never stops talking about her annoying older brother who flies the - I’m sorry, I think I’ve forgotten. Which ship is it? You’ve only mentioned it several thousand times.”_

_“Oh, you have_ not _forgotten, Captain, for fuck’s sake.”_

A laugh bursts past my lips and fresh tears. The camera swivels and a new face appears.

“Watch your mouth, kid. I’ll fly out to the Crescent Nebula myself to wash it out with soap.”

My grin widens waiting for the response.

_“Oh, ha ha. Remember you’re shorter than me now. And I’m not a kid.”_

“Right, and I’m not old,” I fire back.

_“Obviously you are since you forgot I’m not a kid.”_

I laugh again and she does, too. Damn delay is giving her too much time to come up with better comebacks.

“Hil, listening to you mouth off to me is the happiest thing I’ve heard in a _very_ long time. Sounds like we’ve both got some stories to tell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise AU! There's a story behind why Hilary survived in this story, but to do it justice I'll have to tell it in the endnotes of the next chapter (Shepard 4, Pt. 2) when that gets posted next week. 
> 
> If you've followed me on Tumblr, then you know this chapter actually wasn't in the first draft of the story at all. But when I started to do the final edits for this arc, I realized I couldn't do justice to Joker's grief without this interlude. It was too Shepard-centric. A huge shoutout to my betas who dropped other things to quickly weigh in on this one and make sure it was up to the standards of the rest of the fic in such a short amount of time (the other chapters of this arc were written in December 2019, FTR).
> 
> And thank you to everyone who's been reading! I honestly never thought this would get even close to 1,000 hits, and yet here we are!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This longfic began as a theoretical epilogue to my most recent playthrough of the trilogy right before NaNoWriMo 2019. By Christmas it had exploded beyond the initial 30K goal, and by the end of January it was rapidly passing 75K with no end in sight. As spring blew past, I stopped telling my beta readers when to expect the end of the story because it was clear it wasn't going to stop any time soon. So, just over one year and ~340K words later, it's finished and finally ready to begin posting.
> 
> Many thanks to my two readers and the other authors I've befriended and subsequently annoyed through my much belated arrival on Tumblr where my handle is [ _Jediwalkerw_ ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/jediwalkerw)
> 
> Poster artwork by [ _ThePixelAgora_ ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/thepixelagora)


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